Never Far Away
by theicemenace
Summary: A tragedy brings two very different personalities together for comfort. Can Carson and Dusty make their new relationship work despite those differences?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I have no idea where this one came from. It's just one of those plot bunnies that gets into your garden and won't leave until you "feed" it.

Warning: Tissue alert!

Thanks to lg for the Beta.

Gracias,

~Sandy

**Never Far Away**

**Chapter 1**

After what seemed an eternity, the rumbling stopped. Carson lifted his head, rocks and pebbles continuing to drift down covering him from head to foot. Brushing dirt from his face, he blinked in the dim light. Dusty Mehra lay beneath him, her body tense, ready to leap into action as soon as he released her and he did before she could complain about his act of chivalry. His instincts led him to protect any female within his sphere even though he knew she wouldn't have allowed it at any other time. The Sergeant was a Marine and a woman in that order. But this time the choice had been _his_, not hers.

_Crrrrr-aaaack!_

Another large rock fell bringing with it several smaller ones, all catching Carson on the forearm when he deflected them from hitting Dusty on the head. He cried out in pain at the sickening crunch when his radius snapped in two.

"Doc!"

Dusty unclipped her P-90 and set it aside to help him sit up, cradling his left arm close so it wouldn't be jostled. Hissing in pain, he gently probed the area already knowing what he would find. "Ow! Bloody _hell!_"

"Reed? Gimme a hand here." There was no answer as Dusty helped Carson to his feet then over to a rock now resting against the side of the cave where there'd been none before. She helped him out of his jacket then retrieved his medical case from under a rock as big as her head, battered, but still intact.

The cave entrance had filled floor to ceiling with rocks and boulders from pebble sized up to some as big as Volkswagens. And if he didn't miss his guess, that one off to the left would fit snuggly in the rear of a Jumper with no room for anything else. They'd been more than twenty meters into the cave and the small hope that it would be easy for the others to rescue them faded in the greenish-colored light.

All of that was bad enough, but it was what Carson saw sticking out from under the leading edge of the pile that got his attention. "Sergeant!"

Dusty turned in the direction he pointed, the skin around her mouth tightening, the only sign of emotion from the dark-haired woman. "Reed!"

Shedding her TAC vest and backpack, she ran to the Marine's side, carefully removing the rocks lying on his chest and legs, and gently brushing dirt from his face. The shallow rise and fall of his chest confirmed that he was most definitely alive. Blood oozed from a gash on his head, mixing with the dirt and clotting in his hair. The man's uniform was nearly shredded in places and matted with blood in others. His left leg had turned at an unnatural angle telling Carson he'd broken his femur, more than likely just below the hip. He was glad the Marine was unconscious or he'd be in terrible pain.

The luminescent ore in the walls of the cave gave an eerie glow to the scene and Carson said a small prayer of thanks that the air in their tomb was dry instead of dank. However, if they were in here for too long, the water would have been not only welcome, but necessary. They'd have to make do with what they had.

He fished in his medical kit for the sling, easing his hand and arm into it and settling the strap around his neck. Now that the adrenalin rush had eased somewhat, bumps and bruises began to make themselves known. Scooting off the rock, he got to his feet and shuffled to Dusty's side. "I'm goin' t' need yer help, love."

~~O~~

Dusty unzipped Reed's TAC vest, but didn't try to take it off. Feeling something move that shouldn't have, she snatched her hand away.

"What is it?"

"One of his ribs moved."

"Don't move him or it'll puncture a lung." Carson knelt on the ground, his shoulder brushing hers and, in spite of their dire situation she felt the tug of attraction. That feeling you get for another that makes you want to be more than friend close. Giving him a quick glance told her nothing of his thoughts, or maybe it did, but his focus at that moment was solely on Reed as he handed her a pair of scissors.

"Open his shirt."

While she did as directed, she pushed memories, good and bad from her mind so she could concentrate on being Carson's hands. Many of the good memories had to do with Reed and the bad ones…well she would dwell on those later.

Though he was a Captain and she a newly promoted Staff Sergeant, they'd been pals since she'd transferred to Atlantis from the SGC often working out together in their off time. Sometimes they'd get into a three-on-three basketball game or even a little touch football with some of the other soldiers.

After palpating Reed's abdomen with his good hand, Carson took out the scanner, moving it over the other man's body from head to foot.

"So?"

Sitting back on his heels, Carson let the air out of his lungs then sucked it back in again before responding. "He's sustained a skull fracture n' a severe concussion. There're bruises, lacerations n' cuts all over his body. His right clavicle and two ribs are broken. As I suspected, one of the ribs is dangerously close to puncturin' a lung. But the worst of it is that the left femur isn't just broken. The bone is crushed. There's substantial damage to the liver and he's bleedin' internally."

"He's gonna be okay though, right?"

Shoving the scanner into his back pocket, Carson put his good hand on the ground to lever himself to his feet, Dusty's strong arm wrapping around his waist to help. "Thanks, lass." He moved over to the rock he'd been sitting on before, rummaging in the medical kit for pain killers, gratefully taking the water bottle she handed him.

It annoyed her that he seemed to be ignoring her question though she knew differently. "Doc?" At the look on his face, she knew the answer, turning away as if that would stop him from giving it voice.

"If we were on Atlantis, aye. He'd be out of action for a quite a spell then back to work if it weren't for the leg. But he would need several surgeries t' repair it, _lots_ of physical therapy, and though he'd eventually recover, his military career would be over." He heaved a sigh. "They need t' get us out soon or…"

"Isn't there _anything_ you can do?"

"'Fraid not, love. At this point, all we can do is make him comfortable. And even if I had the equipment, I'd need the use of both hands to perform the surgery." Moving the sling back so he could check his broken arm, he sucked in a breath at the pain dimmed only slightly by the meds. "Love, I need ya t' help me on with the splint. Can ye do that?"

"Yeah."

Carson passed the wrist brace to her and she loosened the Velcro straps. As carefully as she could, she slid the black brace over his fingers as he held the arm still. She saw tears well up in his blue eyes at the pain she was causing him, but it couldn't be helped. It had to be immobilized or the ends of the broken bones could shift and cause more problems. A moment's pain would be worth it to prevent the need for surgery later. She reached to tighten the straps, but his warm hand on hers stopped the motion. That warmth traveled up her arm and across her chest, touching her in places that hadn't been touched by another in longer than she cared to admit even to herself.

"It's gonna hurt like a bloody bugger, love. Best let me do this part."

Nodding, Dusty returned to Reed giving Carson privacy to express his agony. Kneeling next to her friend, she tried the radio but got nothing, not even static. Not knowing what to do to comfort Carson, herself or her friend, she took refuge behind the mask she wore in imitation of Colonel Lorne. Temporarily assigned to his team, she respected Atlantis' 2IC as much as she did their commanding officer. She couldn't hide hurt, fear and disappointment behind a smile and a joke so she settled for the mask and a mouthful of gum to keep her from speaking out when she so desperately wanted to.

~~O~~

"Back!" Ronon threw himself forward sweeping John, Evan and Teyla away from the cave entrance as it filled with rocks and debris, the group falling far enough away that none had been injured. Somehow, John had ended up on the bottom of the pile. He reached out a hand and the Satedan helped him up. "You hurt?"

John stared at the now impassable cave entrance. "Just my pride. I think it's safe to say that the locals aren't hiding in there." He clicked the radio twice. "Sheppard to Beckett…Mehra, Reed, report!" Only static greeted him. "Crap. Lorne, how far out is the _Daedalus_?"

"Three days. Sir, they may be injured. We can't wait that long."

"We _aren't_. Contact Atlantis and get as many bodies here as quickly as you can with all the necessary equipment to dig 'em out." Evan nodded once then was off and running toward the Stargate. John unclipped his P-90, passing it and his thigh holster to Rodney before removing his TAC vest. "McKay, you and Teyla create a perimeter until reinforcements get here. The rest of us'll get started. And keep trying to contact them."

Rodney shot a look of alarm at his team leader. "But…"

"Just _do_ it!"

The men and women left outside the cave formed a human chain, John lifting a rock and passing it to Ronon who passed it to Coughlin, continuing on until Sullivan carried it to a nearby clearing. When Evan returned, he shed his weapons and vest and joined them.

Every few minutes, Rodney again tried to contact their three missing companions, and each time he didn't receive a response, his expression grew grimmer. Eventually he stopped trying and gave his attention to the area he'd been assigned to patrol.

~~O~~

Several quickly and painfully indrawn breaths later, Carson came to her side. He started to lay a hand on her shoulder then thought better of it when she turned a glare in his direction. Reaching out, she took her friend's hand. "Reed, squeeze my hand if you can hear me."

Knowing that there was nothing to be done for the Marine Captain, Carson returned to the rock he'd come to think of as his, lifting his pack onto it. He held it against his chest with the elbow of his bad arm so he could unzip it, pulling out three bottles of water, shaking his head and chuckling. Two were Rodney's, spares he'd convinced Carson to carry for him. If they didn't get out soon, he and Dusty would need them more than the physicist.

In the side pockets, he located power bars and several MREs. Rodney again. He must have shoved them in there when Carson hadn't been looking to save room in his own pack for equipment or some such thing. He should have been annoyed, but for once Rodney's paranoia had worked in their favor.

He didn't know what Dusty carried in her pack aside from the essentials and any soldier type equipment she'd need, and wasn't keen on bothering her at the moment. She was still watching over Reed, waiting for the moment when he regained consciousness. While it was a possibility the man would wake up at least for a bit, it wasn't likely given the severity of his injuries. But he said a silent prayer for the man just the same.

~~O~~

Dusty sat cross legged on the ground next to Reed, no longer holding his hand. She hadn't given up on him regaining consciousness though it seemed like a lost cause.

When they were off duty, he'd insisted on her calling him AJ instead of Captain or Reed, but each time she did, it felt weird so she didn't. Now she wished she'd made a better effort to please her friend. Their friendship meant a lot to her and her imagination had filled in a future where they were old and gray and continuing their friendly basketball rivalry of the Chicago Bulls versus the Miami Heat. A bottle of water appeared in front of her and she took it automatically.

"We need water more than food because there's no tellin' how long we'll be waitin' for rescue, love."

"Thanks." She uncapped the bottle and took a drink knowing without Carson saying so that they needed to ration their supplies until Atlantis came through. Looking past where Carson was now going through his medical kit, she thought about the back of the cave. They hadn't been inside long enough to explore before they'd become trapped. She would sit with Reed a little longer then have a look around to see if there might be a way out.

"So what d'you think the Heat's chances are this season?"

Grinning, Dusty shifted her knees upright to lean her elbows on them, the water bottle still held in one hand. "'Bout the same as _last_ year, not a snowball's chance in…" Excitement shot through her. "Doc! He's awake!" She got to her knees again as Carson squatted next to her.

The medical doctor took Reed's wrist in his good hand, counting the beats. "How're you feeling, Captain?" She caught the concern in his blue eyes as well as the slight shake of his head.

"Like a buncha _rocks_ fell on me." Reed's voice was low and wracked with the effort of holding back the pain. "What's the word, doc? Am I gonna make it long enough to see Ladell Meinhardt take Miami to the championships?"

Carson looked away for a moment telling the Marine all he needed to know. "Ye need major surgery n' we're not equipped for it."

"No worries, Doc. It's not my first trip 'round the block." He coughed, groaning at the fresh waves of pain. "Could we have a few minutes?"

Not even glancing at Dusty, Carson nodded. "Aye."

~~O~~

Holding Reed's hand, Dusty missed the look that passed between the two men. Carson nodded, moving away so Reed could speak privately with his friend. His bladder needed tending to anyway, so he went down the tunnel where it made a sharp curve to the left then another to the right, not stopping until he could no longer hear their voices.

As he attended to business, he again wondered about the ore streaked through the walls that glowed even this far into the cave. Very little light, if any, reached this area so how was it that the ore veins retained their luminescence? He wasn't a geologist, not even as a hobby, so that question would best be answered by Dr. James Milone and his team. The Haitian had joined the expedition just six months before and was as obsessed by rocks as Parrish was about plants.

His stomach grumbled, and deciding it was time to feed it, he unwrapped a power bar to munch on.

~~O~~

"Dusty, I have…(groan)…have to tell you something."

"Reed…"

"Give a dying man his last wish and call me AJ, just this once." She shrugged and nodded looking so annoyed he chuckled, which brought on another coughing fit. His hand clenched on Dusty's so hard he knew it hurt, but couldn't help it. "Sonofa…shoulda gotten something for pain before the doc left."

One corner of her mouth turned upward. "If you'd stop _talking_…"

"Can't. Too much to say. Not enough time." He tried to shift to get comfortable, but the pain in his body wouldn't allow it. "Like the new hair by the way." She'd dyed the front of her hair blond. In a ponytail, it didn't look like much, but when it was down, her hair fell in curls around her face. He smiled and there it was. The softer side of Dusty that very few had ever seen. He'd been one of the few when Alicia Vega had died. Big dark eyes glistened with unshed tears, her expression changing, showing just the smallest amount of fear when he laced their hands together. It hurt like hell to move any part of him, but it was worth it to be able to touch her like this just once without worrying that someone would report them to Lorne, Sheppard or Woolsey.

"Maybe you should…"

"No. Have to say this…while I can." His eyes locked on hers, willing her not to look away. "I love you." Her smile made his heart flutter. Or was that death knocking at his door? He knew which he preferred, but he also knew the truth.

"Love you, too, AJ."

The pain suddenly shot up increasing his breathing to the point where he was gasping for breath. "I'm _in_ love with you, Dusty. Have been for a while, but the regs…Oh God that _hurts!_"

"I'll get Beckett."

She tried to stand, but Reed held her in place with a final surge of strength. "Stay. Please."

~~O~~

_He's in love with me?_

Reed's confession was more than a little surprising. From the way he treated her, she'd never have known how he felt. Or maybe she _had_ seen it and had mistaken it for a strong friendship or worse yet, ignored it. She _did_ care for him, a lot, but she wasn't _in love_ with him. But the man was dying. He deserved to go to his reward thinking she shared his feelings.

Shrugging, she smiled sweetly at him letting him draw his own conclusions. She knew she'd succeeded when another smile lit up his light brown eyes, a wink briefly closing one eye. "Knew it. I'm…irresistible." Still not speaking, Dusty leaned down to press a kiss to his cheek. "Mmm. Now I c'n die…a happy…man…"

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** This was Beta'd by ladygris. Thanks again, friend.

~Sandy

**Never Far Away**

**Chapter 2**

From the tunnel, Carson watched as the last moment of life left the affable and very likable Marine Captain. He bowed his head and said a prayer for the man's soul.

"Reed? AJ!" Dusty's voice rose in panic as Reed's hand slipped from hers, his head lolling to the side. Placing her free hand on his bare chest, she felt one last gurgling breath escape then he was still. Both hands clutched the open edges of his shirt. "Dr. Beckett! Doc…" she cut off in mid word when he appeared beside her, touching her gently on the shoulder.

"Relax, love. I'm never far away." His blue eyes showed compassion for her and Reed as he made his own assessment. "You can do all right things and it still happens. Sometimes it's just not meant to be."

Dusty surged to her feet, a rock in her fist. "Shut the f*** up! He's _dead!_" Carson ducked as she threw the rock at the wall then bent down to pick up another and throw it as well. More followed. "Why did he have to _die?_"

There was nothing for it but to let her get as much of her rage at the injustices of life and death out as possible. Done throwing things for now, she continued to stalk about their little prison, kicking rocks, his field kit and even her backpack. The battered pack smacked against the wall and she kicked it again and again. When she stopped, Carson moved to her side. She refused to look at him until he gently but firmly turned her to face him. Once he had her attention, he looked her in the eye, touching her on the shoulder. "I'm sorry ye have to go through this, love. I know what it's like t'…"

"No! You _don't _know." She twisted away from him, facing the tunnel. When she spoke again, her voice hadn't lost its bitter anguish, now barely above a whisper. "Just before…he told me he was in love with me. Wanted to know if I…"

"Do you?" He had no idea why he asked. Or maybe he did. The thought that Dusty could be in love with a dead man hit Carson in a place he'd thought didn't exist anymore, though he didn't examine too closely why. Going there might upset the delicate balance he'd managed to achieve since his return to Atlantis after his rescue from Michael's captivity.

Without turning, she shook her head. "He was dying and I _lied_ to him."

"If you ever need…" Carson stumbled back a step when Dusty did the last thing he expected of the tough-as-nails Marine. She threw herself at him, and he automatically held her close waiting for the tears to come, but all she did was hold on tight, her head on his shoulder. Apparently, all she wanted, all she would _accept_ was a few moments of comfort. She pushed away, ducking her head so he couldn't see her face. Attaching her P-90 to the strap, she sniffed just once.

"I'm gonna check out the tunnel. See if there's a way out. Stay here." Tossing a glance over her shoulder, she added, "I mean it. Stay."

"Yes, ma'am." After she'd gone, Carson took out his scanner and did one last full scan of Reed's body to confirm the time of death. "AJ, lad. I dinnae get a chance to thank ye fer savin' my life again n' wish I could've done the same for ye. I know ye were just doin' yer job, the one asked of ye, but thanks just the same. But don't worry, lad. We'll see to it that ye get home. Colonel Lorne'll be takin' ye himself. Sergeant Mehra will probably go as well." He pulled the sides of Reed's shirt together over his chest and stomach. "Rest now, son. Ye've earned it."

~~O~~

The sun was beginning its downward trek toward sunset yet still beat relentlessly on the Atlanteans engaged in the rescue of their friends, robbing them of vital fluids and strength. Everyone had stripped off their uniform shirts until eventually the women were working in just tank tops and most of the men were shirtless.

Jennifer had set up a treatment area in the cool shade of the trees surrounding the clearing where they were moving the rocks, dispensing water, electrolyte replacement drinks, sunscreen and orders to rest periodically. Also on her orders, misters had been brought in to augment the light breeze wafting through the area.

Rodney, Radek and Milone's team scanned the area in an attempt to guide those moving the rocks while other teams scouted the perimeter of the mountain looking for a back door. They'd been at it for hours and had only cleared out the first ten meters when John called the scientists over. A single boulder filled the tunnel completely with no way to get around or over it.

James Milone walked back and forth in front of the opening, scanning and muttering to himself. "The composition of the walls is _astounding_. It contains an abundance of…"

"Doc!" John's frustrated voice cut into his ruminations. "No one _cares_ what it's made of! Can we slap some C-4 on it or not?"

James stepped inside the cave, peering into the gloom above, aiming the scanner at the ceiling. The ceiling sloped upwards sharply just at the crest of the huge boulder. "Not." He gestured. "This rock," he slapped it for emphasis causing smaller rocks and dirt to trickle down, "is the foundation for several thousand metric tons of rock and debris. Remove it and this entire part of the mountain could collapse eliminating any chance of ever rescuing those trapped inside. I'm afraid that the only way to get them out is to find another way in or await the arrival of the _Daedalus_."

Standing in a semi-circle, John, Evan and Rodney, looked at each. Under the circumstances, there was only one thing they could say. "Oh, _crap!_"

Evan continued alone. "Want me to inform Woolsey?"

"I'll go." Pulling on his sweat and dirt stained T-shirt John took off. This was one SitRep that had to be given in person.

~~O~~

Just as she had when Alicia Vega died, Dusty shoved her emotions to the side in order to get the job done. She was embarrassed at her short-lived expression of grief and fury, but it was over now. Reed's confession and death would be dealt with in due time. She was certain Dr. Beckett would recommend they both see the staff psychologist. Her mouth twisted in derision. In her opinion psychotherapy was a waste of time. More can be done to relieve stress and clear the mind by getting into a bar fight, running till you drop or an intense sparring session with a challenging partner. And naturally, that again led her to think about Reed.

With a growl, she turned her attention to exploring the cave. She'd gone what she judged to be about a klick when the tunnel made a sharp turn to the left where it dead ended. "Crap!"

Taking out the bottle of water she was rationing for herself, Dusty took a long swallow, recapped it and shoved it back into the pocket of her uniform pants before making the return trip. She'd just rejoined Carson when she felt the pulling sensation that came with being transported, and found herself standing in _Daedalus'_ medical bay. Quickly curbing her instincts to shoot first and ask questions later, provided someone was left alive to do so, she passed her weapons to a dour Marine standing beside Major Marks then submitted to being examined by the medical staff. She still might have balked if Carson hadn't been injured. Staying would give her firsthand information on his condition. Movement in the corner of her eye told her medics were lifting the lifeless body of her friend onto a slide out drawer where Reed would be kept until an autopsy could be done.

"Bloody hell!"

The oath from Carson took her attention as she watched the medic remove the splint and lead him to the scanner, their whispered conversation easily audible to Dusty's exceptional hearing. With a small sigh of relief, she heard the diagnosis. The break was clean, and would heal itself within a month though he'd still need a few weeks of physical therapy before resuming a surgical schedule. He glanced at her as the medic urged him to sit on the next bed while they put his arm in a cast. She nodded and he returned the gesture with a small smile.

Kevin stepped forward when the medic moved away to perform the blood tests that were standard operating procedure following an offworld mission. Dusty got to her feet, coming to parade rest waiting for him to speak.

"Sergeant, Colonels Caldwell and Sheppard, and Mr. Woolsey asked me to advise you of the debriefing set for 0730 tomorrow. Atlantis' main conference room."

"Yes, Major."

He turned to face Carson. "And you as well, Dr. Beckett."

"Aye, I'll be there."

~~O~~

The debriefing went smoothly and soon Dusty and Carson were on about their daily lives. Waiting until they'd passed out of hearing range of her superior officers, she pulled Carson to a stop. "Do we _really_ have to see the shrink?"

"Aye. After having a brain scan first, of course. Standard procedure, love."

"What're they lookin' at?"

"The hypothalamus. It's one o' the most important parts o' the brain, involved in many kinds o' motivation, among other functions."

"Hypo-what?"

"Hypothalamus. It's a part o' th' brain that controls th' 'Four F's': fighting, fleeing, feeding, and fu…uh, mating."

His face turned pink when he changed the last word to a more socially acceptable one, and she found the fact that he could still blush at his age and after all he'd experienced endearing. She mentally rolled her eyes at herself for the fanciful thought. "What's _that_ mean?"

Carson heaved a resigned sigh. "It means, love, that we see the shrink as required or we won't be released back t' active duty any time soon. I helped write the protocols m'self. No gettin' around 'em."

The disappointment she felt that he couldn't find a way out of it for them showed on her face. "Oh." After a long pause, Dusty stated, "I'm _not_ talkin' to him about my mother!"

His chuckle made her smile. "It's _not_ a requirement that you talk about yer mum, love. Just that you talk to him."

"'Kay. Don't like spillin' my guts to strangers."

"Then maybe talkin' to a _friend_ would be the way to go."

Watching his face, it seemed as if he were trying to tell her something without telling her anything. "So, if I wanna just talk about…anything…I can come to _you?_"

The sympathetic and caring smile came easily to him, and she appreciated it. "Aye. Any time, love."

"Why do you say that all the time?" The look of confusion creased his forehead. "'Love'?"

"It's a habit I learned from my mum. If ye'd rather I didn't…"

She shrugged, almost indifferently. "Just wonderin'."

That smile appeared again. "Well, I'd better be gettin' t' m' appointment, Sergeant."

"Dusty."

"Carson."

She nodded. "I, uh, I gotta pack. We're takin' Reed home just after the service so I get to see the SGC's resident shrink. Yippee." She graced him with a smile of her own before jogging away, tossing a quick, "See ya, Carson" over her shoulder.

~~O~~

Watching Dusty round the corner, Carson took a moment to admire the way she fit into her uniform, her firm backside covered in black shifting with every step she took. And he could tell she had no idea how captivating she was. With a deep sigh, he headed to the transporter. "You are a _pervert_, Beckett. What would a lovely young thing like her want with the likes o' you?" The door closed and he was whisked to the medical level.

Stopping in front of the psychologist's office door, he paused a moment to reflect on his thoughts and emotions regarding his and Dusty's entrapment and rescue. He'd never been claustrophobic, but being confined had felt too much like his imprisonment with Michael, and no matter what the shrink did or didn't say, he knew the nightmares would return. Once again, he would be forced to relive everything that had happened.

"Right then. Let's do this." The pep talk with himself done, Carson touched the chime, the door opening to the face of a tall man in his fifties with dark wavy hair and John Lennon glasses.

"Dr. Beckett, do come in." The men shook hands. "Adam Fry, psychologist. I was just about to have tea. Please join me."

"Don't mind if I do. Just a touch of milk please." Carson seated himself across from Dr. Fry while he poured the tea.

"Would you care for a scone? I made them myself."

"Aye. Just a wee bit o' butter, please." Dr. Fry set the small plate on the table to Carson's right so he wouldn't have to fumble.

Fry sat back in his chair, crossed his legs and took a sip of tea. "So, what shall we talk about?"

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Thanks again to ladygris for her Beta work on this chapter.

_Gratias agimus tibi_,

~Sandy

**Never Far Away**

**Chapter 3**

Carson left the shrink's office more confused than when he arrived. All they'd talked about was Carson's childhood growing up in Edinburgh as opposed to Fry's childhood growing up in Hampstead, London and the differences in the cultures of the two countries. He didn't ask Carson to explain his reasons for becoming a doctor or his choice to come to a place filled with dangers such as those here in Pegasus. He wouldn't have known what to say anyway. _He_ hadn't done those things or made those decisions. The six older sisters, their spouses, children and mother living in Scotland weren't _his_ family. They were the other Carson's.

The man knew of his status as a clone and the atrocities he'd endured at the hands of the monster the original Carson had helped to create. And though he hadn't been a party to it, he still had the memories of the things and places experienced by _that_ Carson up until he awoke in one of Michael's hellholes he called a lab.

Actually, they'd talked about other things aside from how different their childhoods had been, but none of it had to do with the cave-in, the death of Captain Reed or even Michael. Much of the time the man had spent talking about food, especially his recipe for steak and kidney pie.

He looked down at his left arm, shaking his head as he adjusted his sling. Fry had insisted on signing the cast, and did so with a flourish, adding below his name something in Latin that made Carson chuckle in spite of the aching. _In caelum cerevisiae est nullum, Itaque hic bibemus illum!_

He thought about going to the Infirmary, but they wouldn't let him do anything. The idleness was so bloody _frustrating!_ Every time he tried to perform an exam or help with post-mission physicals, he was firmly yet gently sent on his way by Jennifer or Amanda Cole. He dearly loved both young ladies though they could be quite…headstrong. They must've had a word with the entire staff because the last time he'd been in the Infirmary when Teldy's team had come in with minor injuries, once again he'd been moved on. They wouldn't even let him do _research_. He was a doctor! Who better than he would know what he could and couldn't do?

He headed there now, needing to replenish his supply of pain meds. Knowing his past, or rather the past of the other Carson, Jennifer dispensed only four tablets at a time, taking care that he wasn't using the drugs inappropriately. He'd tried to tell her that it wasn't the same now, and it was true. She obviously subscribed to the fact that once an addict, always and addict. But he only took the "hard stuff" when the pain got to be more than he could handle or was keeping him awake. And taking _one_ did not create within him the urge to continue taking them. The bottle was left in his room and most of the time he forgot about it until the pain got to be too much.

It didn't matter if Jennifer believed him when he told her that Michael had eliminated the addictive personality from his genes as well as his allergy to cats and a few other undesirable traits he'd yet to uncover. And he really didn't want to fight over it, so he left it alone and made his trips to the Infirmary. Besides, he kept hoping she'd give in and allow him to at least do rounds now and again. Not being her superior any longer, he couldn't order her to stand aside, so she had her way.

And thinking of Jennifer made him think of Rodney. The two of them were completely besotted with each other and it showed in their faces whenever one or the other was mentioned. Having been in that position a time or two, he knew how it felt. And despite what others said behind their back, they had all the ingredients to create a life together for the long-term. Any day now he expected to be asked to be best man at their wedding.

Carson also thought about Rodney as he'd been with Katie and how different he was with Jennifer. With Katie he'd been kind and gentle, but the way they treated each other in public one would never have known that the two were more than friends. Not once had he ever seen them even holding hands.

He was a big believer in the saying that it's the little things that count and with Jennifer, Rodney went out of his way to be thoughtful and considerate, holding her chair, unfolding her napkin, getting her coffee refills even if he wasn't getting one for himself. He once saw Rodney carry her tray to the table then, without even seeming to know that he was doing it, opened Jennifer's sandwich, removed the pickles he knew she hated, then pass her the mustard, all while speaking to Radek about some element of physics that went way over the heads of the rest of them. And Jennifer sat there, her face showing just a little embarrassment even as it said, "I can do this myself, but isn't he sweet?"

It made Carson wish he had that with someone. Someone who knew his favorite meal and either made it herself or made certain the restaurant they chose served it. And he would do the same for her. He'd hoped to have that with Alison, but once the element of danger had been removed from the equation, the attraction they'd felt for one another had quickly faded.

That led him to Dusty and his sudden fascination with the young woman he'd glimpsed under the Marine's façade. It would be easy to get her personal information from the medical database, but he preferred to get to know her by talking to her. Now all he had to do was figure out how to do that without her thinking he was a stalker, or worse, a dirty old man though technically, he was only a few years old with the memories and experiences of a much older man.

~~O~~

The nondescript sedan with government plates drove slowly along a quiet street lined with modest one-story homes. Here, lawns were well kept. Flowers bloomed in the gardens, bursting with color and life, and trees reached toward the cloudless blue sky. This suburb of Miami was home to the family of Captain Albert Joseph Reed, USMC, deceased.

Dusty stared out the front passenger window heedless of the beauty of the scenery. She blew a bubble, let it pop then sucked it back in again. Though protocol dictated that the senior officer have a driver, Evan had insisted on being behind the wheel. In her lap, one hand wrapped around it so it wouldn't fall, sat an Athosian urn containing the Earthly remains of her friend, a man who'd died saving her and Carson. And though she should have been thinking about what to say to Reed's family, the medical doctor had occupied her thoughts for the better part of the drive from the Air Force base. Wondering why that was hadn't gotten her anywhere by the time the car pulled to a stop. She was so lost in thought she jumped slightly when Evan touched her on the shoulder.

"We're here, Sergeant." He nodded at the urn. "Want me to carry him?"

She shook her head as she took a piece of silver lined paper from a pocket and used it to dispose of her gum. Opening the door before Evan could, she set the urn in the seat while she straightened her Marine dress blues and checked her hair. A lock of the blond at the front had come loose but she didn't have a clip to secure it with. When Evan came to her side, he glanced at the stray curl. "Sorry, sir."

"No need to be." He gave her a sheepish smile while pointing to his own problem spot, a small bit of hair at the front that refused to stay put even with gel. She gave him a grin in return both knowing they were thinking about John and his unruly mop.

He nodded and she followed him up the walkway to the front door. Before they could knock, it was opened by a slender woman in her late fifties holding a tissue in one hand. Dusty and Evan removed their covers, stepped into the short hallway then followed her to the living room.

~~O~~

Sitting in _Daedalus' _Mess Hall thinking back on meeting the Reed family, Dusty again felt a moment of panic. Evan had yet to talk to her about Mrs. Reed's slip. It wasn't _her_ fault. AJ's mother hadn't worked outside the home since before she'd married his father, Lawrence, and had no idea that there were regulations against fraternization in the ranks.

She tried to forget the entire incident, but every time she closed her eyes, there they were. The bright smiles of welcome from the family who thought she was AJ's girlfriend, the hugs…and the words that could end her military career.

_So you're Dusty. I've wanted to meet my son's girlfriend for a long time. You're even prettier than he described._

And from that moment on Ella, as she'd insisted on being called, had treated Dusty as if she were a member of the family. Evan too. Deciding to go for a run, she pushed back from the table, coming immediately to her feet when Evan stopped next to her. "Colonel Lorne, sir."

"At ease, Sergeant." Dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt with the USAF logo over his heart, he sat down waiting for her to sit before speaking again. "We have to talk."

"Sir…"

"Stop right there." Clasping his hands together on the table, he raised his eyes willing her not to look away. "If you tell me nothing happened between you and Reed, I'll believe you. And if something did, well, there's no reason anyone else has to know. Not even me."

"But, sir…"

Evan stood abruptly, Dusty coming to her feet as well. "Case closed." Both hands went behind his back, his eyes never leaving her face.

"Yes, sir."

He nodded and she fell into step beside him mirroring his relaxed posture. "I was about to take a run. Join me?"

Dusty already respected the man. His treatment of the situation just clinched it. She'd follow him anywhere. "Yes, sir."

**Four Weeks Later**

Carson's stomach grumbled as he entered the Mess Hall and began choosing items at random without regard for the food pyramid. The problem with that was now he couldn't carry his tray _and_ his tablet. Sliding one end off the edge of the counter, he balanced the tray on the cast around his left arm. He'd only taken a few steps when it started to slip. Foreseeing a disaster, he was surprised when it was snatched out of the air before it could fall. Turning to thank his benefactor, he saw Dusty's cheeky grin.

"Got it."

"Thanks, love." She followed him to a table in the corner, set his tray down then unloaded it for him, placing the food in front of him. He gave her smile of gratitude as he unfolded his napkin. "Care to join me? Unless you have other plans."

"No plans. Be right back."

She returned within five minutes, her tray loaded with most of the same not-that-good-for-you items. Whether she did it because they were things she liked or to keep him from feeling bad, he didn't know. Either way, he appreciated the gesture. "How was the funeral?"

Looking down at her plate, she picked up the small bunch of grapes pulling them off the stems one at a time. "Tough." Tossing the stems on her tray, she picked up a grape and stuck it in her mouth.

He took her hand and gave it a small squeeze. "I'm sorry you had to go through that, love."

One shoulder lifted just a little, gently retrieving her hand. "He was my friend."

"Of course." They ate in silence for a while, Carson trying to summon up the courage to ask Dusty on a date. He'd decided just that day to see if the attraction was mutual, a product of his imagination or even still present. "Dusty, would you…" But before he could finish, Rodney and Jennifer joined them without invitation. With more sarcasm than he meant, Carson said, "Please join us, Rodney."

Still standing, Jennifer took in the look on Carson's face, glancing from him to Dusty and back. "Are we interrupting? 'Cause if we are…"

"No, love. Please sit."

~~O~~

Rodney held Jennifer's chair then sat across from her, oblivious to the undertones flowing between Carson and Dusty. But Jennifer could feel it in the air, this link that had nothing and everything to do with their time in the cave. They were two wounded souls that needed comforting and who better than someone who's been there, done that? Jennifer silently wished them well. "So, Carson, today's the big day."

~~O~~

"Big day?" Dusty repeated pointing to the cast. "Gettin' that off?"

"Aye. When I'm through eatin' I'll go to th' Infirmary, and glad to be rid of it. Coverin' it with a plastic bag t' shower got old th' first day."

The conversation eddied around the four companions until Carson asked about vacation plans. When it came her turn, Dusty swallowed then took a drink of her iced tea before answering. "I'm good. Might go fishing on the mainland, if I can find someone to go with me."

"Fishin', you say." Dusty watched Carson's eyes light up at the mention of his favorite hobby. "If ye know a good place, maybe we could go together."

Beside him, Rodney huffed. "If that's your not-so-subtle way of hinting that we should go again…"

"Oh, shut it, Rodney. It was no such thing. Since ye obviously don't want t' go…"

"I _do_. It's just that…"

Carson finished off his tea and stood, touching his friend on the shoulder. "I'm no' tryin' to lay a guilt trip on ye. It's just that th' lass wants t' go n' ye don't. So don't worry about it. Sergeant Mehra and I will have more fun without ye."

As she gathered her and Carson's trays, the Scot flashed her a smile of thanks, her lips curving upward in response. "I'll go to the Infirmary with you, Doc."

"That's not necessary." Shrugging, she waited for him to lead the way, but she should have known better. "After you then, love."

Dusty wasn't used to the men around her having such gentlemanly ways and she found herself hesitating a fraction of a second before starting down the hall with Carson coming up alongside of her. He'd given up the sling long ago and now wiggled a finger into the space between his palm and the plaster. When he saw her watching, he gave her a sheepish smile and stopped. "When we goin' on this fishin' trip?"

"Well, after the cast is off, I'll be needin' some therapy and ye still have a few sessions with Dr. Fry, so three weeks, give or take."

She shoved both hands into her pockets and snorted. "That guy's a _freak_. He never asks me _anything_. Just stuffs me full of biscuits and tea and tells me the best way to make spotted dick." Chuckling, Carson gestured her ahead of him into the transporter. "Thought he was gonna bust a gut when I asked why anyone would _want_ his dick spotted."

Carson passed chuckling and laughed out loud, stopping when he saw the scowl. "Sorry, love. It's a dessert made of dried fruit n' custard. An' don' ask me why it's called spotted dick 'cause I've no idea."

Again she shrugged-her signal to drop the subject-just as they arrived at the Infirmary. Dr. Joval, the orthopedic specialist, ushered him to the scanner then into a private exam room. She would have waited outside, but Carson drew her in with him. He got up on the exam table giving her a wink over Joval's shoulder. She leaned on the wall, both hands still in her pockets trying to figure out how he could make her feel so special with just a glance.

~~O~~

Carson propped the elbow of his sore arm on the table and pushed the other hand through his hair making it stand up. Joval had finally given him leave to work in the Infirmary after extracting a promise not to overdo. And he wasn't, but the dreams that had stopped for a while started up again after he and Dusty had been freed from their rocky prison. Instead of lessening with each session with Dr. Fry, they were getting worse and beginning to interfere with his ability to do his job efficiently. Everything seemed to remind him of the methods that Michael had used to get him to do his bidding. The torture and tormenting of the human trial "subjects", the ones on whom he'd been forced to test each new version of the Hoffan drug. And the killing. Especially the killing without a drop of remorse.

And when they died, Michael would have the bodies dragged to an empty room where they were left to rot. Not even a decent burial for those whose lives had been stolen from them. No dignity in life and certainly none in death. Where Michael had gotten the subjects, he had no idea, and after being backhanded, punched in the kidneys or jabbed with the end of a stunner more than a few times, he quit asking.

But he didn't want to think about that now. If he was going to help Dusty get over the loss of yet another important presence in her life, he needed to have all his wits about him.

_And why would ye be wantin' to do that, then? Yer not a psychologist. Just how d'ya expect to help the lass when ya cannae even help yerself? What makes ye think she even wants yer help? Yer old enough t' be her…what? Older brother? And what exactly do ya want in exchange for this help she may not even need? Gratitude? Friendship? Love? Love? Where did that come from? _

"Oh, shut it!"

From the other side of the ward, Marie peered curiously at him. "Is there a problem, Doctor?"

Embarrassed that he'd spoken aloud, Carson shook his head. "No, love. I'm about to take a break. Can I bring ya somethin' from the Mess Hall?"

"No, thanks. I'm off duty in another hour."

He hung his lab coat on the back of his chair and left the Infirmary, but didn't go to the Mess Hall. Instead, he went to one of the unused upper levels and out onto the balcony. Resting his hands on the railing, he stood there just watching the sun's reflection on the tower opposite as it slowly climbed upwards while the sun set behind him.

~~O~~

In his bed, the sheet tangled around his legs, Carson kicked, his body shuddering. Sweat beaded up on his face, his T-shirt already soaked with it as he dreamt of captivity and torture…

"_I'll no' do it!"_

"_Do not defy me, Dr. Beckett. You have tried it in the past and it has only made your punishment worse."_

"_Experimentin' on adults is one thing, but I'll no' be a party t' doin' it t' children!" In his prison garb, nothing but thin slippers on his feet, Carson crossed his arms, his chin coming up defiantly. "Do what ye like t' me. I won't do it!"_

_Instead of responding to Carson's bold statement, Michael nodded to one of his guards. The man, or what had once been a man, left the room. The sounds of yelling reached Carson before the door opened again and a young boy was hauled in. He was pushed forward with great force but still managed to keep to his feet. The bravado he'd shown up to this point vanished when he saw Michael. The boy turned to run, but was dragged back by his shirt._

_Michael came to his feet with a grace of movement that Carson envied even while hating the Wraith. And every moment in captivity was spent filled with shame that he'd been an accessory in creating the creature that had imprisoned him for so long. By his reckoning, Carson had been held for nearly a year. It seldom took Atlantis personnel more than a few hours or days to mount a rescue._

"_If you will not do the experiments, then perhaps I should feed on him." The boy was released by the guard and Carson quickly pulled the boy to him as if that would keep him safe. Michael stopped in front of the two of them. "I have heard that the life force of one about to enter puberty is sweeter than that of an adult." The boy whimpered and buried his face in Carson's chest as Michael's right hand came up facing outward to show his feeding organ. "Shall we…test that theory?" _

**TBC**

**A/N: **_In caelum cerevisiae est nullum, Itaque hic bibemus illum!_ = In heaven there is no beer, that's why we drink it here!


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **As always, many thanks to ladygris for having a look at this chapter for me even while beset by RL issues.

Namaste,

~Sandy

**Never Far Away**

**Chapter 4**

Michael was a squatter, moving to worlds left in ruins by the culling of the people. Each time they moved to a new planet, the conditions grew worse. Carson had tried talking to Michael, to make him see that he'd make faster progress if the working conditions were less primitive. But Michael wouldn't listen, or maybe he'd guessed that it was a ploy to get closer to technology that might help Carson contact Atlantis. All requests were denied.

~~O~~

_To keep the boy from being fed upon, Carson agreed to begin the experiments. The guards escorted them to the main lab, Carson's mind whirling as he tried to figure out a way to stall, to hopefully find a way to save the boy from the fate that awaited him. _

_Dressed in tattered rough-hewn clothing he was on the verge of outgrowing, Carson urged the boy onto a chair. "What yer name, lad?"_

_He shrugged. "Don't have one."_

_Smiling gently, Carson laid a hand on his thin shoulder. "We'll have t' remedy that straight away. How about…Farrell?" _

"_Farrell?"_

"_Aye. It means 'brave warrior.' It was m' da's name and I'd be honored for ye t' have it as yer own."_

"_I'm not brave."_

"_We have a sayin' on Earth. Bravery is bein' the only one who knows you're afraid." Farrell nodded, smiling for the first time. He hadn't had a bath in sometime and his clothes were filthy. Drawing him over to the sink in the corner, he gave Farrell a rag and told him to wash up as best he could. "I'm goin' t' try to find a way out o' this for ye, but it may take some time. Try not to worry, lad."_

~~O~~

_Eventually Michael became angry with the delays and confronted Carson. The medical doctor stood protectively in front of Farrell begging Michael to spare him, but it did no good. One of the guards hit him and he fell to the floor as Michael flexed his feeding hand. Carson called out, his voice rising in pitch screaming for the Wraith to stop. The guard raised his weapon and the last thing Carson saw before his consciousness winked out was Michael's hand slamming into Farrell's chest._

~~O~~

The scene blurred and changed, and Carson's vital signs jumped. He _knew_ he was dreaming, remembering scenes from the torture he'd endured, but he couldn't wake himself.

This time, his mind showed him an earlier memory, one worse than the loss of the boy because it set the standard for his and Michael's relationship from that day forward.

~~O~~

_Carson awakened in the dark, his body curled in upon itself, a defense mechanism he thought he'd outgrown. As a child, he'd been afraid of the dark. His da refused to allow his only son to have a nightlight, so he often slept in the fetal position, the covers up over his head as if that would protect him from whatever lurked in the night. _

_He remember being stunned for refusing to help Michael perfect the Hoffan drug, but little else since he'd been in this place aside from his capture by the Wraith who had been changed by the retrovirus. _

_Not even the smallest sliver of light showed as he moved his head side to side. And that wasn't all. He couldn't hear anything. Snapping his fingers brought the slightest sound to his ears._

_Reaching out, he couldn't touch the wall in front of him so he rolled onto his back and tried to sit up. He must have lying there for a while because his entire body had stiffened in the cold. Groaning, he got to his hands and knees, but when he made to stand, he bumped his head. Moving carefully about the enclosure, he figured the dimensions as barely larger than a crate made to hold a large dog. He wouldn't be able to stand or stretch out flat to allow his battered muscles some respite._

_He lay there for only God knew how long, unfed, ignored, frightened of the darkness like a small child until finally the door was opened. Hands grabbed at his clothing, dragging him out and ordering him to stand, but he'd been in that place long enough that his legs wouldn't support him. He lay on the dirty floor while his muscles screamed. The light made his head hurt and his eyes tear up. Sounds impacted his hearing as though he were inside a huge drum, making his head throb. When he could finally stand, he was taken to a cell then Michael came in a short time later._

"_I trust you've learned your lesson, Dr. Beckett. Perhaps now you'll be less inclined to refuse to carry out the orders you are given."_

_Pressing his hands to the sides of his head, he winced at the echoing quality of Michael's voice reverberating inside his skull. "Not bloody likely!"_

"_Depriving you of food, water, companionship and the ability to move freely has not achieved the results I'd hoped. Therefore, I must resort to more…decisive measures to get your cooperation." He nodded to the guards and one of them opened the door to let in another who was dragging a young woman by the arm. She was pushed over to stand in front of their leader, her chin coming up proudly, unwilling to beg for her own life. Carson started to speak, but the guard pressed a stunner against his temple. _

_Michael walked around to stand behind the girl, looking first at Carson then at her again in an almost curious fashion. The sound of metal being pulled from its leather sheath foretold the Wraith's intent but he was too fast and Carson was unable to stop him. Michael placed his hand under the girl's chin tilting her head back and slashing the knife across her throat. _

~~O~~

Lying in bed, Dusty stared up at the ceiling watching the shadows dance. She'd been like that for hours, unable to sleep. Reed's death had brought up all the others she'd lost in her life, their faces swimming through her memory like a school of barracuda.

She tossed off the sheet and padded over to the dresser, pulling a pair of sweatpants from the drawer and slipping them on. Reaching for her socks and sneakers, she decided a run would do her good.

Her acute hearing picked up the sound of someone in the hall so she went to the door to see who else was up at this time of the night. Maybe they'd join her so neither would have to run alone.

Stepping out of her room, she was surprised to see Carson slap the sensor that opened the balcony door and rush through before it was completely open as if he were being chased. If some of the stories she'd heard about his time with Michael were true, then he must have some terrible dreams. Maybe that's why he was up so late.

Exchanging her sneakers for flip-flops and grabbing a stick of gum, she went to check on Carson, to make sure he was okay, not stopping to wonder why his state of mind concerned her so much.

At the balcony door, she watched as he leaned on the railing taking great gulps of air, his hands shaking. He was barefoot, wearing just pajama pants and a T-shirt, his hair sticking up all over his head. The slight breeze brought the aroma of sweat and fear to her. She'd smelled it on him before when they were in the cave and when they were fighting Michael's failed experiments, but not this bad.

He didn't seem to notice she was there and she didn't want to scare him even more so she blew a bubble and let it pop.

~~O~~

The memory of being in that small cage for an unknown amount of time stayed with Carson as he bolted from his room hurrying down the hall to the fresh air and open spaces. Taking deep breaths of the cool night air calmed his wildly beating heart, but it didn't stop the emotions from staying with him.

Rage, fear, despair, terror, hatred…the feeling that he could kill Michael and his guards without losing even one night's sleep. There were other emotions he'd experienced in Michael's custody, but these were the most vivid, and the hardest to forget. One by one, he pushed them behind the walls he'd built that had allowed him to go on living because each day he lived there was the hope that one day Atlantis would find him and bring him home again. And as long as there was life, there was hope.

_Live for today, hope for tomorrow._

It was a mantra he recited over and over until it had become a part of him that Michael couldn't touch even with his mind probes.

A pop startled him out of his thoughts, and when he turned, Dusty stood there, her jaws working a piece of gum in a slow and lazy up and down. Her dark eyes framed by thick lashes watched him, assessing his state of mind, his reason for needing to be alone. He'd never seen her in anything other than her uniform, but tonight she wore sweatpants and a tank top that allowed her midriff to show. Her hands were in her pockets, all her weight on one foot, hip thrust out to the side. Doing his best not to gawk, he dragged his eyes back to her face. "Dusty."

"Carson."

Try as he might to stop it, his eyes kept seeking out a bit of sparkle emanating from that small wedge of flesh between her top and pants.

"Yes."

Now he was confused. "Pardon?"

"It's pierced." She blew another bubble sucking it back in before it could pop. Her right hand came out of the pocket, lifting her top just enough that he could see her belly button and the curved sterling silver ring with white stones set into the ends.

"Um, I wasn't…hadn't notic…um, it's…lovely." Carson had never been a fan of piercing the body other than the ears, though he'd seen more than his share since coming to Pegasus. Most of the staff were here _because_ they pushed the envelope, stretched both the spirit _and_ the letter of the law set down by the IOA and the military, more often than not almost to the breaking point. He didn't know if military regulations allowed body piercing, but somehow it seemed so right that Dusty should have one.

She gave him a half-smile as she took a few steps closer. "Don't have any others and no tattoos." All he could do is gape at her. "That's what most guys wanna know."

Her bold statement made him laugh melting away the embarrassment. "I'm not _like_ most guys. Remember?"

She studied his face for a moment then pointed her chin at the padded bench. "Wanna sit?"

"Aye. After you." Her blunt response about her belly button piercing helped him more than she knew. It gave him something to focus on for a few moments and helped him find his equilibrium again.

Dusty took a seat on the end nearest the door, crossing her legs at the ankles, drawing Carson's attention to the plain white flip-flops and toe rings. Pretending not to notice, he sat down on the opposite end.

"Couldn't sleep," Dusty stated shortly. "You?"

"Same thing, sort of." Looking at her then away, he rubbed his hands together. "I…had a dream, nightmare actually." She didn't say anything, just watched him with that unblinking stare that disconcerted him more than he wanted to admit.

"Bad?"

"Aye."

"Wanna talk about it?"

A sad smile turned up the corners of his lips. "Not really."

"Okay."

Leaning back on her hands caused her top to lift up just enough for him to be able to see the metal of her belly button ring and though she appeared not to notice he was staring, he knew the Marine saw and heard everything. An aura of romanticism eddied around them, drawing them closer emotionally though the physical distance remained the same. They didn't talk, just took solace in the presence of another sympathetic soul.

~~O~~

Stifling another yawn, Dusty continued to watch Carson from the corner of her eye. Everyone on Atlantis knew that he was a clone, that the original Carson had been killed in an explosion. However, as far as she could see, he wasn't that much different than any other normal human aside from the shots he had to take once a week to keep his organs from breaking down.

And that accent. That alone made him stand out from the crowd.

No, that was wrong. She _did_ see differences between Carson and others, but it was more in the way he treated people in general that was different. He had all the same memories as the original so it must be his upbringing that made him this way. From what she'd observed as well as the rumors and tall tales, Carson Beckett had always been a kind, compassionate and caring person.

Most men acted as if she were one of the guys or just wanted to have a good time and thought she'd be more than happy to provide it. On the odd occasion, she had done so, but that got old quickly. Since she'd been in Atlantis, she hadn't found anyone who caught her eye, and so had not bothered to show any interest beyond friendship.

That was why it annoyed her that she was now contemplating doing so with Carson. He certainly treated her better than other men did, not counting the soldiers. _And_ he seemed interested. She also knew that he'd never play games with her heart, mind or body. He wouldn't get into an intimate relationship with a woman without a great deal of thought.

But lurking in the back of her mind was the idea that he saw her as a substitute for Alison. Her teammate and friend had returned to Atlantis after Vega's funeral but had remained restless and unfocused, opting out of offworld travel to take a position in research. That had lasted about a month before she filed her transfer back to Earth. Ali had hugged her tightly, a few tears trickling down her cheeks before pushing the cart with her belongings through the wormhole.

Dusty yawned again and this time Carson caught her in the act, lifting one eyebrow and giving her a small grin. "I think it's about time for ye to be gettin' to bed now, love."

"What about you?" She stood and he did the same, coming to her side. They were close to the same height, their eyes on level with each other. And when her dark orbs locked with his blue ones something, she wasn't sure what, passed between them. It made her feel warm all over, spreading throughout her body to settle in places that she'd been ignoring for far too long. Now these areas were once again stirring. At the moment, they were only making their new status known. But she knew that soon she would have to deal with the fact that Carson, without even touching her, had awakened the womanly part of her, whether it had been his intention or not.

"I'll walk ye, if ye don't mind."

Nodding, Dusty led the way back inside, waiting for him to come up alongside before proceeding. For a brief moment she contemplated asking him on a date, but quashed it. Carson was probably old fashioned and preferred to do the asking. And even if he didn't tonight, he would soon. She just had to be patient.

~~O~~

Resisting the urge to offer Dusty his arm, Carson thought about what had just happened, that moment where it had all changed. They were no longer _just_ Staff Sergeant Dusty Mehra and Dr. Carson Beckett, two colleagues who had recently shared a traumatic experience and had become tentative friends in the process. Now they were more. How much more, Carson wasn't sure. But he knew he wanted to find out.

Dusty came to a stop in front of a door that looked like all the rest on this level with only minor differences in the coloring on the walls and the potted plants to the right next to a bench.

"This is me." She faced him, her eyes darting over his face then back to his.

"We're neighbors then. I'm just around the corner, third down on the left." She just kept watching him, head tilted to the side, not going into her room, but also not saying anything. Her eyes dropped down to his lips and back up. Was it a signal that she wanted more than just a simple "see ya later"? Deciding to be bold and find out, he leaned close. She inhaled sharply, just a small, quick intake of breath that told him what he wanted to know as she leaned toward him. Their lips had been about to touch when John's voice intruded.

"Whoa! Doc, Sarge."

Carson stepped back guiltily, warmth creeping up his neck and face that he hoped would go unnoticed in the dim light. "Colonel!"

"Colonel Sheppard." Dusty just grinned as if getting caught in a compromising position by her CO was an everyday occurrence.

John looked from one to the other sensing his presence was unwelcomed, by Carson at least. "Um, as you were."

Together Carson and Dusty watched John enter his room at the other end of the hall. Awkwardness came between them, Carson dropping his eyes to the floor. Of course, doing so let him see her feet, her toes curling into the material of her footwear. For someone who wore boots most of the time, the skin of her feet was smooth, the toenails neat and unpolished. "I'm sorry for almost taking advantage of ye before."

"It's okay." She touched him on the arm forcing him to look up, but his eyes wouldn't meet hers.

"I, uh, should be gettin' back to m' room." He took another step back so he wouldn't be tempted to try to kiss her again, and when he finally looked at her face, her expression gave nothing away. "Good night."

"'Night." She let him get to the corner before speaking again. "If you need someone, a friend to talk to…I'm never far away."

~~O~~

The next few weeks were hectic around Atlantis. New trade agreements were made, a rebel faction of the Genii was causing havoc on several worlds that Atlantis hadn't yet visited, forcing John and Woolsey to step in and assist. A new variety of drug-resistant flu had invaded the city making all but a few ill. Fortunately, there were no deaths though those still healthy wanted to do harm to Rodney because of his constant complaints and declarations that _he_ was sicker than everyone else. Even Jennifer in the next bed had told him to shut up and go to sleep on numerous occasions.

Carson had been one of those who hadn't succumbed to the illness, and when his blood had been tested, he found that immunity to certain diseases had been "programmed" into his DNA. Michael was dead, but he found it within him to be thankful for the small favor for it was this that had allowed him to care for the others during this trying time.

And though he was more tired than he'd ever been, he still took time out to visit Dusty in her quarters twice a day. On at least two occasions, he'd arrived in time to see her rush into the bathroom, just barely getting her head over the toilet in time. As a doctor, he wasn't bothered by the sight of someone vomiting. He just held her hair out of the way while rubbing her back in soothing circles, helped her stand, then waited while she washed her face and brushed her teeth. His arm around her waist, he helped her back into bed, pulling the covers up over her and putting out the light.

Life had only just gotten back to what passed for normal when Jennifer got word that her father was ill. She had left that same day and was not expected to return for at least two months, making living with Rodney more like hell than heaven for the rest of them. The physicist had made several strongly worded requests to be allowed to accompany Jennifer but all had been denied.

And then there was Dusty. She and Carson had lunch together two to three days a week when she wasn't offworld on a mission. Not that he planned it that way. It just happened. She seemed to enjoy their time together even though she was teased by her teammates. Not one to hide her feelings, he could tell she was aggravated. Teldy kept such comments to a minimum though Master Gunnery Sergeant Jerry "Gunny" Brackman and Dr. Luiza "Ricki" Ricciutelli, Vega's and Porter's replacements respectively, could be merciless. The Major eventually put a stop to it even while smirking at Dusty's exasperation.

He and Dusty seemed to enjoy each other's company, also having spent a great deal of time together on the balcony late at night when dreams or restlessness kept them from sleeping. Most nights they would just sit and watch the sky, sometimes talk.

Morning sunshine streamed in through the windows as Carson left his room headed for the infirmary. Seeing Dusty ahead, he jogged to catch up. "Morning, Dusty." She was in her black mission uniform and carrying her backpack.

"Carson."

"Headed offworld?"

"It's harvest time on M43-847 and we just have to have more tava beans, don't we?"

Chuckling, Carson nodded. "Aye. They're similar to _Lens culinaris_. Rich in the essential amino acids isoleucine and lysine, as well as dietary fiber, folate, vitamin B and iron, yet without the flatulence brought on by…" He stopped when he realized her eyes had glazed over. "Sorry. I have a tendency to lecture." She shrugged it off with a smile and he knew the time was right. "Dusty, would ye care to have dinner with me one night this week?"

She blew a bubble and sucked it back in. "A date?"

"Aye. Just the two of us." He gave her a significant look.

"Sure."

A delighted grin made his blue eyes sparkle. "Lovely. Just let me know when is good for ye…"

The urgent voice of Richard Woolsey came over the PA interrupting the pleasant conversation the couple had been having.

"_Colonel Sheppard, Dr. McKay, Dr. Cole and all senior staff to the main conference room immediately!_"

**TBC**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Once again, thanks go out to ladygris for having a look at this chapter and stopping me from making some embarassing faux pas.

Merci,

~Sandy

**Never Far Away**

**Chapter 5**

"Och! Mr. Woolsey sounds a wee bit upset." Carson touched Dusty on the arm before hurrying away.

Dusty watched him go then followed. Woolsey sounded more than "a wee bit upset" and she wanted to be there for the reveal when her team leader left the hastily called meeting. Apparently she wasn't the only one. Brackman, Ricciutelli and about thirty others had picked up on the urgency, milling around the Gate Room and speculating. She kept quiet and waited.

~~O~~

Standing with her team, surrounded by nearly a hundred others, some sent by Ladon Radim, Dusty surveyed the scene of devastation before her. This planet had a tech level roughly equivalent to Earth in the 1910's. Massive steam powered trains were lying on their sides, the tracks twisted and bent beyond repair. Horseless carriages smashed and broken much like the people inside them. Many of the buildings were made of brick, stone and concrete, but none had been made to withstand the still unknown magnitude quake that had rolled through the area. Smoke from fires mixed with dust from the broken buildings hung in the air.

Those who were still able to walked around with stunned expressions that told of the horrific experience of having their world completely changed in just a few moments. Some were injured. Others were crying. One woman carried a bundle wrapped in a blue blanket, her dark skin contrasting with that of the much lighter skin of the baby telling the Atlanteans that the mother had probably perished and this woman had been there to rescue the child. The exposed areas of her skin were covered with the dust floating in the air, tear tracks showing the skin of her cheeks underneath.

The leader of her SAR team, Colonel Lorne, began issuing orders as they picked up the equipment needed to search the rubble. Dusty, Brackman, Coughlin, Ricciutelli, Ronon, Carson, Joval, Marie and a squad of brawny Marines were teamed up to search a short cobblestone street running East/West. Dusty gave a silent sigh of relief that there appeared to be less destruction here than in other areas, with a few exceptions.

As they walked the street, Dusty made sure to keep an eye on the medical team and not just because Carson was there. In her experience, medics had a tendency to wander off and she didn't want one or all of them getting injured or lost. That's how she noticed that Carson had stopped to talk to a woman who was sitting on the steps of what had once been her home and were now the only thing left standing. Her long hair, once pinned to the back of her head in an elegant chignon now hung how her back, a lock of it over her shoulder, her face streaked with dirt and soot. Cradling her right hand in her lap, blood shone starkly red against her pale skin and the torn sleeve of her blouse.

Carson sat down beside her, opened one of the medical cases and took out what he needed talking softly to her while he cleaned and bandaged her wound. She finally looked up giving him a sad smile, nodding as she got to her feet. Touching her gently on the shoulder, he pointed back the way they'd come where Amanda had set up triage and treatment tents, and the survivors were being taken. The woman started to turn away then suddenly threw her arms around Carson squeezing him tight before lifting the hem of her long skirt and hurrying away. Carson packed his medical cases and came down the stairs to Dusty's side.

"Poor dear. Her entire family, mother, father, children, perished when her home collapsed. They didn't know what was goin' on so they hid in th' basement while she came outside to check. She's no idea if her husband is even alive."

"I'm sorry." A few steps later, she said, "Teach me to do that."

He was genuinely confused at her question. "What, love?"

She nodded at the woman just now turning the corner at the end of the street. "Get people to trust you."

A concerned frown creased his forehead. "You think no one trusts you?"

"They do, but not like that. It's not…instant."

"I'm sure ye have it in ya. Ya just need the right circumstances to show it." He gave her a smile and her shoulder a small squeeze though she still looked unconvinced.

"When Alicia was killed…"

"_Michael_ is to blame for the death of yer friend, not _you_. Ye were followin' orders to protect me and Alison when th' Captain was killed, and ye wouldn't have been able to prevent it if ye'd been there."

"But you _followed_ me when I told you to stay put. You didn't trust me."

"I did…_do_ trust you. Yer a young woman n' I thought ye were in trouble." He gave her an embarrassed grin when her eyes lit up.

"Yeah? No one's ever worried about me like that."

They shared a pleased glance. "Come on. Let's get these poor souls taken care of."

A whistle brought both their heads up to see Brackman and Evan waving for them to hurry. They jogged to the site of a small home where the side had buckled pushing the first floor into the basement. From inside, the sound of whimpering came to them spurring them to action.

~~O~~

Evan showed Carson the LSD. "Two life signs, one very faint." The whimpering became screams when an aftershock shook the area knocking more bricks and chunks of stone down around them.

"We need to get them out quickly!" It was unnecessary for Carson to remind them, though he did anyway.

"Already on it, doc."

Behind Evan, the Marines, Ronon, Brackman, Ricciutelli and Coughlin were already beginning to remove the loose wood, bricks and concrete to create an opening. Dusty handed her weapon to Carson and went to assist, Evan at her side. They'd only been at it a short time when the building groaned and shifted. The cries became screams, Carson, Joval and Marie rushing forward. A chunk of bricks still attached to each other fell from the roof just missing them. Carson wrapped his arms around Marie, Joval embracing them both making certain the nurse was fully protected. Carson had turned his back to the scene much the same as he'd done for Dusty in the cave-in.

Seeing this, Evan raised his voice. "Stay back!"

Dusty's eyes met Carson's, hiding her fear behind a mask. She nodded and he reluctantly did the same then she turned her attention back to the opening, using her flashlight to peer into the darkness as did Gunny Brackman and Evan while the others set up the tripod.

~~O~~

A girl about the age of seven was huddled in a space that had once been part of the first floor next to the body of a man and woman. The man was obviously dead, his upper body crushed, a drying pool of blood around him. Smelling the blood brought back a memory that she didn't have time for. The woman soon would be dead by the way she gasped for breath and they had to get the girl out or she would soon join her parents.

Dusty cast her light around the narrow gap then looked at her companions mentally comparing their body sizes to the hole. Nope, she was the only one aside from Marie and Ricki who would fit. The men were all too broad-shouldered or too tall, Marie was needed up top to help care for the victims and no way would she let the scientist do her job. "I'll go." She unzipped her TAC vest, tossing it at Joval who caught it automatically. No one argued with her. They knew she was right.

Dusty ignored the look she knew Carson was giving her as Evan and Gunny helped her into the harness and attached the ropes to the tripod. She pulled on gloves then sat down, swung her legs over the edge and carefully lowered herself into the hole. By the time she reached the space approximately seven meters below, the woman had stopped breathing.

The girl clutched a doll as dirty and battered as she. Her crying tapered off, becoming sniffles and hiccups the moment she saw Dusty. Kneeling next to her, the Marine took off her gloves and thought about how gentle Carson was with the woman, the soft tone he'd used to put her at ease. "Hi. My name's Dusty. What's yours?"

"Kinsa."

"That's a nice name."

Touching her mother's hand, Kinsa sniffed again. "Mama and Papa are dead, aren't they?"

"'Fraid so." She took Kinsa's free hand. "But we're gonna get you out of here, okay?"

"O-o-okay."

A colossal groan pushed its way through the ruined home, the rubble around them shifting and sending rocks, dirt and debris over Dusty and Kinsa. The girl screamed and Dusty quickly gathered her into her arms, closing her eyes and bending forward so most of the stuff fell on her rather than the girl. A rock hit her shoulder and she flashed back to the cave-in. Long ago memories surfaced but she didn't let them distract her. Suddenly she understood Carson's instinctive need to protect those around him. For him it wasn't just his job. It was his life like being a Marine was hers. If he'd been able to, she had no doubt that he'd have done the same to Reed, even if it meant he would have died in the other man's place.

"Mehra!"

"We're good. Comin' up now." Dusty held up a small harness. "I'm gonna put you in this thing and my friends'll pull you up."

"No!"

"Don't worry. Nothin' to it. I do it all the time for fun."

"No. I-I want to go with _you_." She began crying again, silently this time, the tears dripping onto the face of her doll. "Please."

"Okay. You'll need to hold onto me really tight. Can you do that?" Kinsa sniffed and nodded. Dusty took the doll and shoved it inside her shirt before helping her into the harness. Catching sight of something, Dusty scooped it up, shoved it deep into one of her pockets then connected Kinsa's harness to her own. Kinsa wrapped both slender arms around Dusty's neck, pressing her face against the Marine's chest and squeezing her eyes closed.

"Everything okay, Sarge?" Evan's voice floated down to her.

"Yeah. She's scared so we're comin' up together."

"Roger that. Just say the word."

Dusty checked that the connections were secure then tugged on the rope to signal they were ready. As the slack was taken up, Dusty got to her feet. "Hold on." She reached up to grab hold of whatever looked like it would support their combined weight, pushing the toes of her boots into spaces between the pieces of concrete, stone and loose bricks, testing each new hand and foothold before using it.

~~O~~

Carson watching anxiously as Dusty was lowered into the hole. He tried to keep his breathing slow and even, to hide the fact that he hadn't been so nervous in quite some time. Her head passed out of sight as the men played out the rope until her voice called a halt.

Standing with Joval and Marie, he mentally went over their conversation of just a few minutes ago. He didn't know how to teach her something that came as naturally to him as breathing. No matter what she thought, he was certain she possessed those same skills. She just didn't trust herself enough to let them out. So he would teach by example though he didn't think it would be necessary.

Ricciutelli had moved out of the way at Evan's order and was standing with the medical team. Carson's attention returned to the situation at hand when the men spoke excitedly to each other. A moment later, Dusty's dark head came into view. She sat on the edge of the gap, her back to him. Her head turned to look up at the men all standing there waiting to help her and that bit of blond came into view. Small rocks, dust and other debris coated her hair and clothing. The cheek facing him had a scratch and streaks of dirt. She was a mess, but to Carson, she never looked more beautiful because she and the girl were alive.

~~O~~

Gunny unhooked Dusty and Kinsa from each other, squatting down in front of the girl to take the harness off. The big man knew his muscular six foot four, two hundred thirty pound frame intimidated many adults. To a child he would look like a giant.

"There you go, sweetheart." He smiled and received one in return when he took off his cap and slipped it over her much smaller head. "There. Now you're an honorary Marine."

Evan helped Dusty to her feet. Kinsa went immediately to her side and went with her to the medical team.

~~O~~

Dusty urged Kinsa to release her while Gunny unhooked them and helped the girl out of the harness. Evan did the same for Dusty then the Marine led the child to the medical team impelling her forward with a hand on her back. "Kinsa, this is my friend Carson. He's a doctor and he's gonna have a look at you."

Kinsa looked back at him warily when he crouched in front of her. "Hullo, Kinsa. That's a lovely name. Let's have a look at ye then." He reached for her hand, but Kinsa would have none of that.

She shook her head, hiding behind Dusty, holding tight to the leg of her pants. "No! I want to stay with Dusty."

That sweet and gentle smile was back. "Of course. We'll just go over here out of the way." He nodded. Dusty picked Kinsa up and moved to a safe distance from the ruined buildings, holding her on her lap while Carson did his exam. Their eyes met over Kinsa's head as he pressed the stethoscope to her chest. He gave her a half-smirk and nod as if to say "told ye so." Rolling her eyes, she reached inside her shirt to pull out the doll. Kinsa held it tight to her side while Carson did his examination.

A groaning, tearing sound came from the building where the bodies of Kinsa's parents lay. It trembled, the chimney sliding off the side as the Atlanteans ran for their lives, Evan shouting, "Go-go-go!"

Carson started to take Kinsa, but Dusty shook her head, picking her up and running the length of the street. When the crashing finally stopped, the house had crumbled onto the place where they'd all been standing. There were a few minor abrasions and lacerations but nothing major. It was a miracle that none of them had been killed. Their faces grave, SAR Team Lorne returned to the Stargate to make their report.

~~O~~

Dusty and Carson's date didn't happen that week. He spent most days and nights in the Infirmary or on call. Some of the injured needed more than one surgery to repair their wounds. Others he thought would make it didn't, and he secretly thought they'd died of broken hearts after losing everything they knew and loved. He'd mentioned it to Dusty during one of their hastily shared meals and to his surprise, she hadn't laughed. She just reached across the table and held his hand for an all too brief moment, pulling away when it seemed as if they were being stared at. He didn't make an issue of it and could see the gratitude in her eyes.

~~O~~

The SAR teams rotated in shifts until Atlantis, assisted by several allies, had completed their search of the ruined city. In all, more than three thousand had perished, and those left behind were homeless, some living on Atlantis until new homes could be built on the same site. At least that had been the plan until Rodney and his team completed their research.

Over the weeks they'd been searching, numerous aftershocks gradually increasing in strength had endangered the rescue efforts. After extensive testing, the science team had determined that the area around the Stargate was rapidly becoming unstable and would continue to do so as the planet moved into a period of intense seismic activity. It would continue for years leaving the area uninhabitable and the Stargate inaccessible.

The _Daedalus_ eventually arrived to do a more thorough scan of the area. With a grim expression, Caldwell announced that there were no other survivors within the rubble.

Caldwell conferenced with Woolsey, John, Rodney, Radek and Hermiod then once all the Atlanteans and the others who had offered assistance had left the planet, the Asgard engaged the tractor beam lifting the Stargate and DHD from the planet's surface. It was transported to New Lantea until they could decide what to do with it. This excited Rodney and the science team because their plans for Midway II had yet to come to fruition and this was a start.

They went back to the planet a few months later looking down from orbit at the huge fissure where the Stargate had once stood. It continued on having taken out the nearest edge of the city and beyond.

~~O~~

Now that the residents of M8G-430 had been relocated, taken in by another race whose population had been severely diminished due to culling and disease, the chaotic pace had settled down for the Atlanteans.

Jennifer returned from Earth now that her father had recovered from his illness. She didn't talk about it to anyone but Rodney and Carson though she did mention that her father was seeing someone, a nurse from the hospital where he'd gone for treatments. While she seemed to be happy for her father, she also refrained from making any comments about the budding romance. It was William Keller's first foray into the dating scene since her mother passed away when she was a teenager.

Rodney proposed within a week of Jennifer's return and just as expected, Carson had been asked to be the best man with Amanda as the maid of honor. Though, if Carson was correct in his assessment, _that_ situation would be changing soon as well. He'd seen John with Amanda on numerous occasions, once even catching them kissing outside her quarters. As John had done, he only made one comment when he interrupted them. "As you were." Hiding a grin, he left them alone.

~~O~~

Music mixed with the sounds of plastic chips, cards shuffling and beer bottles clinking filled the room. Here and there chips, nuts and popcorn crunched.

Amelia Banks took a sip of her beer, set it in the exact same spot as before and grabbed a small handful of popcorn. She tossed them one kernel at a time into the air catching them in her mouth. Across from her, Ricki Ricciutelli, the Rodney McKay of Team Teldy, lay her cards face down and sighed. The sound was echoed by Teyla, though more restrained. All three were waiting on Dusty. The Marine leaned back in her chair, one leg crossed over the other, her jaws working a piece of gum as she stared at the cards in her hand.

"While we're still _young_, Dusty." Sarcasm punctuated Amelia's words.

Dusty's head came up, seeing three pairs of eyes watching her. "What?"

Ricki held the deck in her right hand ready to deal. "Do you want cards or _not?_"

"Oh. Sorry." Dusty glanced at her cards blowing a bubble and quickly assessing her hand. "Two." She pushed the discards across the table and Amelia passed her the replacements. _Crap! Shoulda stuck with what I had. Huh! If I was gonna do that I'd still be on Earth with __Frank__, not three million light years away tryin' to get cozy with a clone. He's __so__ not my usual type. So why do I feel like we've known each other forever? It wasn't like that when we were hiding from Michael's experiments, so why now? Maybe it's because we were fighting for our lives. And what about Ali? What if he's still crazy about her and I'm his second choice now that she's returned to Earth? What if… No, don't go there. Crap! You've never been insecure before. Get over it, Mehra!_

A hand came down on the table making everything jump. "Dusty!"

"What?"

Amelia carefully enunciated each word. "It's. Your. _Turn._"

"Oh. Sorry." She sorted her cards until she was satisfied then laid them face up on the table. "Gin." Again her friends just stared at her. "What _now?_"

Ricki tossed her cards on the table signaling that there was no point in continuing. Teyla and Amelia followed her lead. "Your mind's not on the game tonight." The physicist pushed a hand through her short brown hair and finished off her beer.

Teyla collected the cards and slid them into the box while Ricki and Amelia did the same for the plastic poker chips. The Athosian eyed her friend curiously. "Is something wrong?"

"I…no." To hide her embarrassment, Dusty began gathering the empty bottles and plates shoving them into a bag she'd later carry to the incinerator. "Tired I guess."

Amelia and Teyla folded the chairs while Ricki collapsed the legs on the table setting them all against the wall out of the way. Teyla touched Dusty's hand. "If you need someone to talk to…"

Nodding, Dusty added a small smile as her friends wished her good night. Sitting heavily on the side of the bed, she pulled off her boots, setting them neatly beside the dresser before removing the rest of her clothing. She threw the dirty clothes in the basket on her way to the shower.

She returned to the bedroom in her pajamas and towel drying her hair. After running a comb through it, she lay down on top of the covers, both hands up over her head, tucked under the pillow. Twenty minutes later she came to the conclusion that she wasn't ready to sleep so she shoved her feet into flip-flops and headed to the balcony.

~~O~~

"Can't sleep?"

Carson turned at the quiet voice coming from the doorway. Dusty stood there, hands in her pockets again, only this time her top was long enough to cover the belly button ring that had distracted him on prior occasions. He breathed a sigh of relief as she came to sit beside him.

That first night they'd taken positions on opposite ends of the bench. Over the weeks, that distance had all but disappeared until they were now close enough to put their arms around each other if they so desired. Carson knew _he_ desired to though he'd wait until he was certain Dusty wouldn't deck him for taking liberties.

"Aye. The nightmares are gettin' better though they're still disturbin' and seein' ye go down into that hole dinnae help." Rubbing his hands together, he stared at his lap instead of the sky. This allowed him to see Dusty from the knees down. Not that she was dressed oddly or more provocatively than at any other time. He just wasn't certain how to approach her with the offer of advancing beyond the friendship stage. Yes, he had asked her on a date and she'd accepted, but it couldn't be justfate that was keeping them apart. There had to be more to it. When they were together like this, quiet and somewhat serene, he could still feel that they were both holding back just a wee bit.

She turned to look at him and he returned the favor. "How d'you do that?"

He smiled at the near repeat of the start of their conversation about trust. "Sorry?"

"Keep the bad things that happened to you from makin' you nuts."

Closeness often came from shared experiences, but they didn't have that many, and what they did have, most of it was bad. Some were good, like finding and rescuing Kinsa and reuniting the woman with her injured husband. Maybe they needed to confide in each other, share something of their past that would serve as a way to bring them closer. He lifted one shoulder. "Live for today, hope for tomorrow." She looked at him blankly and he tapped the side of his head. "Had t' find a place t' go that Michael couldn't touch, a way t' keep m'self from goin' mad. As long as I kept hope in m' heart and mind, I knew I'd eventually find m' way home. What about ye?"

"Spar or go for a run. Doesn't always work." He nodded understanding.

Twisting his hands together in his lap, he took a deep breath, held it then let it out again. "I know ye've probably heard the story by now, but I'll tell it first-hand, if ye care to listen." Dusty nodded, blew a bubble and waited for him to continue.

"At the time, I thought I'd been kidnapped from M8G-352 by Michael though we all know differently now. He wanted me to help with his research combining Wraith and human DNA. I refused at first. He took steps to try to persuade me that failed miserably for both of us. Then one day he brought a young woman to my cell." Carson kept his eyes on the floor while rubbing his hands together. "He killed her in front of me. Slit her throat without a moment's hesitation. I cooperated from then on…until one day, he brought in a boy hardly more than twelve…"

**TBC**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Ladygris did the Beta again. Personally, I think she'd do almost anything to be near Carson Beckett. ;-)

Thanks again,

~Sandy

**Never Far Away**

**Chapter 6**

Carson stopped speaking, his voice choking up when he reached the part where Farrell had been fed upon and Dusty knew that if she could see his eyes, they'd have tears in them. Somehow, just saying "sorry" didn't seem to be enough for all the horrors he'd endured. He had just told her something intensely personal. She could do no less than return the favor. "My brother died." She purposely made the statement with very little emotion, as if she were talking about the sandwich she had for lunch.

He cleared his throat, rubbing the knuckle of one hand over the end of his nose as he blinked and sniffed. "When did that happen, love?"

"I was seven. He was twelve." She shifted in her seat, the padding creaking. "We were in a car accident, me, Mom and Sanjay. We called him Sandy." Never had she opened up to anyone before except in a general way. Glancing at his face, she saw that he was listening intently, barely even breathing as he waited for her to continue. "We were on the way home from school. This guy in a pick-up runs a red light. T-boned us. It rolled and hit a cement wall on the side my brother was on. He was bleeding so badly and mom was unconscious so I crawled over to try to stop it. There was so much blood I could smell it."

"The paramedics got there fast-Mom wasn't hurt that bad and neither was I. We rode in the ambulance with Sandy, but by the time we got to the hospital it was too late. They didn't even get him into surgery."

"I am so, so sorry, love."

Her hands gripping the edge of the padded seat and keeping her face averted, Dusty continued. "I still miss him."

"I know ye do."

Carson's voice was so sweet, so gentle, she couldn't help it. A single tear trickled down her cheek and she brushed it away angrily. He didn't take her in his arms though she knew he wanted to and to be honest, with herself at least, she wanted him to. He'd listened without saying a word then almost as if he didn't know he was doing it, he took her hand letting her absorb his warmth and strength.

"Come. I'll walk ye to yer room."

Keeping hold of each other's hands, they walked slowly along the corridor of the barracks level, the only sounds the hum of the Atlantis breathing and her flip-flops. Someone came out of the transporter, their footsteps carrying them in a different direction. At her door, she turned to face Carson, their hands finally letting go. Before she could overthink the situation or change her mind, Dusty tilted her head to the side, leaning close as he did the same. Their lips touched and he backed off almost immediately giving her one last smile over his shoulder before turning the corner out of sight. The kiss had been sweet leaving her wanting more. Lots more.

~~O~~

Evening in the Mess Hall was usually a noisy affair and tonight was no different. Most of the tables were full even on the patio, but after a day of drills and team workouts Dusty was too hungry to worry about where she sat and with whom. Pushing her tray along the food line, she stopped by the desserts and looked up when a familiar voice called her name.

"Sergeant Mehra! Good to see you again."

Dr. Fry stood before her dressed in a white chef's jacket. "Doc. What're you doin' _here_ dressed like…_that?_"

He clasped his hands in front of him, assuming a relaxed posture almost as if he were about to begin a lecture. "An event occurred recently that forced me to take over management of the food preparation."

Plucking a cucumber chunk out of her salad and eating it, she watched him warily. "Yeah? What?"

"The cook actually served the hardworking staff of Atlantis," he visibly shuddered, "Sloppy Joes."

The words were said with such contempt that Dusty couldn't keep from laughing though she did mitigate it to a snort. He lifted one eyebrow and tilted his head to the side. "I see you're trying one of the gourmet hamburgers we now serve."

Looking down at her tray, the burger topped with cheddar cheese, barbeque sauce, onions and bacon seemed to be smirking at her. "Gettin' tired of turkey sandwiches." A dish on the line caught her eye, a small cake filled with raisins sitting in the middle of some sort of pudding. "What's that?"

The psychologist turned chef lifted one of the bowls, took a spoon and cut a small portion of the cake taking care to get some of the pudding as well. "This is a special dessert that I've made in _your_ honor, my dear."

Taken slightly aback, Dusty picked up her tray preparing to leave before her evening got even weirder. "Really?"

"Indeed. Open." Fry held out the spoonful of dessert but she kept her lips clamped together. "My ego would be mortally wounded if you didn't at least try it."

Shrugging, she finally allowed him to feed her. The moment it hit her tongue, her eyes went wide in surprise and pleasure. She chewed. "Whoa! What _is_ that?"

Now the shrink was grinning. "That, my dear, is Spotted Dick."

Just swallowing the last bit, she began choking. Fry patted her on the back with a bemused expression. "How was it?"

"It's…good. _Really_ good." She made a smirk of her own, similar to yet different from the sandwich on her tray. "But couldn't you give it a different name?"

Fry's response was to laugh as he placed the bowl on her tray. "Enjoy your meal, my dear. It's meant to be eaten warm so I suggest you have dessert first."

While she'd been talking to Fry, several tables had been cleared leaving her with plenty to choose from. She'd found a seat and had just added lemon to her tea when Carson came to her side.

"Och. I see Dr. Fry's obsession with food is workin' in our favor." The medical doctor gave her a cheeky grin, nodding at the dessert bowl. "Spotted Dick."

"Shut up!" The sting was taken out of the words by the friendly glare she shot at him. "The burgers are great."

"High recommendation indeed. I'll have one m'self." Carson set his tablet on the table and hurried off. He returned a few minutes later, his burger smothered in pepper jack cheese, onion, lettuce, tomato and pickles. But it was the bowl of Spotted Dick that got her attention. She opened her mouth to make a comment snapping it shut again when he quietly said, "Shut it." He grinned and she echoed it back to him as they settled down to enjoy each other's company, hopefully without anyone bothering them.

~~O~~

Standing in front of the mirror, Dusty rolled her eyes. The outfit she had on was _so_ not what she was used to wearing. The sweater and slacks had been gifts from her parents when she'd gone home for Christmas. Just for a moment she considered changing into jeans and a T-shirt.

Her door chimed bringing her out of her thoughts. Shoving her feet into a pair of flats, she went to the desk, but changed her mind. Chewing gum was another thing she did to calm herself or to keep from speaking out when she shouldn't. She wouldn't need it on her date with Carson. Adjusting the neck of her sweater one more time, she opened the door.

~~O~~

Straightening the collar of his jacket, Carson walked around the corner to Dusty's room. Yes, he knew it was a bit old fashioned for the man to do the picking up, but she was kind enough to go along with it. This part at least. Clearing his throat, he touched the chime and when the door opened his heart skipped a few beats.

Her white off-the-shoulder sweater allowed the skin of her shoulders to show down to just below the clavicles, her dark skin contrasting with the lighter color. Of their own accord, his eyes dropped down to her feet and back taking in the form-fitting black slacks and flat shoes then made a return trip back to her face where she was smirking. Her hair, instead of being pulled back off her face, had been left to hang below her shoulders, the blond curling around her face. "Lovely. I mean you look lovely."

"Thanks. Not so bad yourself."

Stepping back, Carson gestured for Dusty to go ahead of him. The doors had just closed when she stopped him with a hand on his arm. "I need to know something first."

Taken aback, Carson said, "What's that, then?"

"Am I a substitute for Ali?"

The fact that Dusty, one of the strongest women he'd ever known, had self-esteem issues was something he'd never considered. "Och! No! Of course not."

"So why me?"

He shook his head at the ludicrousness of their conversation. "You really have no idea, do ya?"

She shrugged, her eyes still on his. "But we're nothing alike."

Taking her hands, he gripped them tight giving her an earnest smile. "You are a stunning woman with a kind and compassionate soul, no matter that you try t' make others think otherwise. As for th' opposites, they attract me as much as th' things we have in common."

"But I'm not the kind of girl most guys go for unless they just wanna…have a good time."

That she had been treated unfairly by his gender in the past angered him. His voice dropped down until it was barely audible. "Dusty, love, those men are _fools_. And my mum and da didn't raise me t' be a fool. I fully intend for us t' have a good time tonight. Just not _that_ sort of good time." He couldn't help the light blush that warmed his cheeks.

"So, what're we gonna do?"

"Start with a semi-romantic supper for two?" Dropping her hands, he extended his elbow. "What d'you say?" Her smile, slow and sexy, set his heart to fluttering in his chest again.

"I say…let's go."

~~O~~

Dinner was over a long time ago yet Dusty and Carson still sat at their table talking. Rather _Carson_ was talking and _she_ was laughing. He was telling a story from his childhood that told her more about him than he might have intended. Carson was a prankster.

"…we'd seen 'The Frog Prince' in school just th' day before so my best mate Tully and me went out t' th' creek that ran behind his house and found this fat frog. His older sister had been complainin' that she was all of thirteen and dinnae have a boyfriend. We carried that frog into th' house n' used it t' chase Aileen, shoutin' for her t' come kiss it if she wanted t' find her handsome prince."

Pushing her hair off her face, Dusty finally got herself under control enough to ask, "Did ya get in trouble?"

"Aye. First we were sent t' take th' frog back t' the creek n' then we got our bums paddled well n' good."

Dusty raised just one eyebrow. "And…"

Chuckling, Carson took a sip of his tea before responding. "It was worth every moment o' th' pain just t' see her face." He mimed being scared making Dusty laugh again. "Tully eventually married m' sister, Myra. They have three kids and live in Kilmarnock." Then just as quickly as it had come, his cheery mood turned glum. He looked up when Dusty touched him on the hand, the sympathy on her face warming him. "Sorry. I keep forgettin' that they're not _my_ family. They're _his_."

Keeping hold of his hand, Dusty pushed away from the table urging him to do the same. "Let's go to my quarters. I have just the thing to cheer you up."

Out in the hall, Carson pulled Dusty to a stop. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea, love."

"_Relax._ We're just gonna listen to music. Maybe watch a movie." He looked a little skeptical and she sighed in annoyance. "No funny business."

"Then lead the way, love."

In her room, she kicked off her shoes. "The CDs and DVDs are over there. Pick something and I'll be right back."

Carson thumbed through the plastic cases until he came to one that intrigued him. Mixed in with the action movies and heavy metal he found a DVD that looked interesting and not at all something he thought she'd have. Every time he saw or spoke to her he found out something else about her that surprised him.

He hung his jacket over the back of a chair, powered up the laptop she kept on the desk that was hooked up to a larger monitor in front of the sofa and inserted the DVD while glancing at the photos and awards that graced the walls and the top of the desk. There were several pictures of her team with Captain Vega and Alison, and another with their replacements, Gunny and Ricki, on and off duty.

He picked up the remote and went to the sofa, but before he could sit down, Dusty came out of the other room in jeans and a tank top. The somewhat somber mood lifted just a little more when he read the front of her shirt. _Dear Santa, I've been naughty, but it was SO worth it!_ His spontaneous laugh made her smile again.

She looked down at herself and shrugged. "It's true."

Dropping the remote back on the sofa, Carson rested his hands on her upper arms giving them a squeeze. "I'd be disappointed if it weren't, love." In her bare feet, the top of her head came to just above his nose causing her to tilt her head back to keep eye contact.

When he'd first met her, the conditions had been less than optimal. An abandoned village, fog that wasn't fog, monsters in the dark, not to mention Alison. While he didn't regret the time he and Alison had spent together, which granted wasn't much, he did regret that he hadn't gotten to know Dusty better before now. And not just because he was feeling more for her than mere friendship.

He'd meant it when he said she was a character and just the kind of person that he needed to make him feel as if he belonged, to make him feel wanted. Oh, he knew he belonged in Atlantis-he could hardly return to Edinburgh and had to be careful where he went while on Earth. And he still planned on making his offworld trips to fight the Hoffan plague that he helped create.

But when the work became too much or he was so tired he could barely put one foot in front of the other, it helped to know that he had friends waiting for him. Atlantis would always be his home and somehow, in these last few months Dusty had turned out to be one of the things worth coming back for on days that tried the patience of a saint. Just knowing her and seeing how she approached life with enthusiasm no matter what the circumstances, had given him a new outlook on life in general.

Now, looking into eyes so dark he felt he could fall into them and get lost, he had to let her know what it meant to him to have her close.

"You're starin' at me again. Not sure I like it."

"Sorry, love. It's just that…"

"What?"

The single word left her lips parted, as if in invitation. His hands slid up over her biceps, skipped over the small bit of material of her tank top to lightly touch the sides of her neck. Her mouth dropped open more, the tip of her tongue coming out to lick her lips when his fingers slid up under her hair, his thumbs grazing the smooth skin just under her cheekbones. A small sigh escaped and her eyes closed as he kissed her moist lips. Taking a step closer, his fingers tangled in her hair, her hands convulsing on his waist before gliding around to pull him against her, her short nails digging into the flesh just above the waistband of his pants.

~~O~~

The moment Carson's mouth touched hers, Dusty felt that this could very easily get out of control. His hands abandoned their venture into her hair to roam over her back, pausing when he reached the middle and encountered no encumbrances telling him she was bare under the tank top. Shivers of awareness shimmied along her nerve endings as his fingers played over each and every vertebra in her back.

And while she wanted to keep going, more than she had for anyone before, she still retained enough reason to be able to stop. But before she did, she wanted to have as much of him as he was ready to give. She could tell that he was more than willing. It would be next to impossible to miss with them pressed so close together. However, she didn't think he was quite ready to take that step and wouldn't let him regardless of what _he_ thought. But she didn't have to back off because he was already pulling away, separating just enough to allow them both to see each other.

"Dusty, love…"

Whatever he'd been about to say, she didn't want to hear it just yet. She grabbed his head and brought his mouth back to hers, this time letting her tongue touch the crease of his lips. He opened his mouth and she pounced on it, their tongues tangling together, battling until by some unspoken mutual agreement they loosened their grip on each other.

He rested his forehead against hers as they waited for the haze of desire to disperse. With jerky movements, her hands moved from his back up to the sides of his face again, moving his head up so she could see into his eyes. "Carson…"

Dusty let go when he suddenly stepped back out of her embrace. He scooped up the remote and sat on the sofa, extending a hand to her. "Sit with me."

Tucking her feet under, she sat next to him, his arm going around her shoulders to hold her close. He pressed play, and The Piano Guys came on with their piano/cello rendition of the song "Paradise" by Coldplay with vocals in Swahili where the word _paradise_ was rendered as _peponi_.

The poignant sounds of the cello and piano flowed out of the speakers as Alex Boye gave voice to the lyrics. Watching these men as they played, their expressions were so…rapturous it was as if the music was a part of them, like a hand or a foot, or more likely, their bone marrow. They were born with the music inside them and what they were seeing was the external expression of that music. By the end of the DVD, Dusty had fallen asleep curled up against Carson's left side and he followed her a short time later.

~~O~~

To: Mehra, D.

From: Beckett, C.

Subject: Fishing

Dusty,

Barring emergencies, Mr. Woolsey has authorized the use of a Jumper any day in the next two weeks if you'd care to go on that fishing trip we talked about. I'm free whatever day is good for you.

Carson

~~O~~

To: Beckett, C.

From: Mehra, D.

Subject: Fishing

Carson,

Cool! I have an offworld mission-more tava beans. Yay!-but I'm back in three days. How about Friday?

Dusty

~~O~~

To: Mehra, D.

From: Beckett, C.

Subject: Fishing

Dusty,

That's perfect, love. We'll work out the details as the day gets closer.

Be safe.

Carson

~~O~~

Dusty read Carson's most recent email as she tucked in her black BDU shirt. Of _course_ she'd be safe. No way would she miss that fishing trip! Sitting on the side of her bed, she put on her boots and tied the laces. Next she went to the desk, unlocked the bottom drawer and took out her standard-issue combat fighting knife, shoving it into its sheath. Next she pulled out a pair of boot knives given to her by Alicia Vega for her last birthday. Until now, she hadn't been able to make herself use them just because they reminded her of the horrible way in which her friend had died. Carson had finally made her realize that Alicia wouldn't have wanted her to wallow.

Hooking her backpack over her shoulder, Dusty headed to the armory to pick up her weapons then met up with her team in the Gate Room. Chuck dialed, the wormhole whooshed and just before stepping into the event horizon, she turned to see Carson standing in the shadows under Mr. Woolsey's office. He waved and she nodded in response then followed her team.

**TBC**

**A/N: **To hear the song in this chapter, "Peponi", go to YouTube and type in thepianoguys. You _won't_ be disappointed. Their performances are haunting, evocative and completely unforgettable.

Sandy


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Ladygris and dwparsnip both had a look at this for me. LG's comments were quite helpful and I even used one of her comments in one of the scenes. Dwparsnip, well all I can say about him is that he reacted to one scene in typical male fashion. Which reminds me...

I'm issuing a dual warning for this chapter. One sections talks about a controversial subject and the other is not quite M, though it may push the boundaries a little.

Gracias and Merci,

~Sandy

**Never Far Away**

**Chapter 7**

**Two Days Later**

With the door to Woolsey's office shut, it was easy to ignore the normal everyday sounds coming from the Operations area and when the 'gate dialed in, that too was relegated to the back of Carson's mind. He finished giving his verbal overview on Captain Garcia's condition, nodded and left Woolsey to read over the details on his own.

Crossing the bridge, Carson heard the sound of laughter as Dusty's team returned recognizing the deep voice of Gunny Brackman and the higher tones of Anne Teldy and Ricki Ricciutelli. What he didn't hear was Dusty's voice. Going to the rail he looked down into the Gate Room. From the look on her face and the holes she was glaring in the backs of the others, Dusty seemed to be the one on the receiving end of whatever merriment was going on. "Yer back early. The mission went well, did it?"

Her lips twisting in an effort to stop a grin, Anne looked up at him. "Not really." More laughter followed and again Dusty did not join in.

"What's so funny, then?"

Dusty chewed energetically, Carson getting the sense that she was using the gum to keep herself from making a comment that could result in a reprimand. To give her morale support, he hustled down the stairs to her side.

Ricki pushed the hair off her face and back up under the cap. "Wanna take this one, Sarge?"

Dusty dropped her gaze to the floor. "No." She huffed in annoyance as the others just looked at her waiting. "Gunny said somethin' about…" she glanced at Carson and away, "…somethin' he _saw_ the other morning."

The look on her face told him the Master Gunnery Sergeant must have seen him leaving Dusty's quarters the morning after their date when they'd fallen asleep on the sofa together. While nothing inappropriate had happened, he was embarrassed on her behalf.

"And I said…"

"What, love?"

"I told him to…'shut it'."

Again Anne looked at him, her expression innocent yet not. "Sounds a little like something _you'd _say, Doc."

"Oh, shut…"

The smirk that Anne did so well was back. "My point exactly."

Carson turned to Dusty. "Sorry, love."

She shrugged, blowing a bubble and letting it pop before sucking it back in. "Since it's obviously not a secret anymore…"

Her hands grabbed the open sides of his lab coat, pulling him against her as her lips covered his. Stiffening at first, he eventually relaxed enough to rest his hands on her waist and get into it. She may have done it to prove a point, but he didn't care. He enjoyed being able to touch her this way. Pulling away, she grinned at him then turned in the direction of the armory. After a moment of stunned silence, the others followed.

Watching them go, Carson chuckled and shook his head. _Oh, she is definitely a character!_ The chuckle faded as he moved his tongue around inside his mouth realizing that he now had her gum. With a shrug and a softly muttered "mmm" he made his way back to the Infirmary chewing all the way.

~~O~~

On the shore of a lake where no one had ever fished before, Carson and Dusty sat side by side, their lines cast into the water. Birds flew overhead, a light breeze rustled the leaves on the trees and cicada-like insects chirped in the underbrush. Dusty clamped the pole between her knees, reached for a bottle of beer, twisted the top off and passed it to Carson. He took a swig then set it aside as she opened another for herself. "We gonna eat the fish we catch?"

"'Fraid not, love. I only do catch and release."

"Why?"

"Because fishin' isn't about catchin' fish."

"It isn't?" Her voice rose a little at the end.

"No. It's about relaxin' in quiet contemplation, spending time with nature _and_ with someone you care about." He looked over at her with a shyness that made her give him one of those half-smiles then faced the water again. "There's a sayin' that th' gods do not deduct from man's allotted span th' hours spent in fishin'."

"So the more you fish, the longer you live?"

"In theory. Don't think it's ever been tested though." When she didn't respond, he turned to see her watching him sadly. "What is it, love?" Still she hesitated so he laid his pole aside and took her hand. "Say what's on yer mind. I won't be offended."

"Didn't work out so well for you the first time." Her expression told him she was referring to when the original Carson Beckett had been killed. He didn't fault her for bringing it up and gave her hand a squeeze to let her know.

"Och. It's only an old wives tale, love. Probably created by an old wife who was tired o' havin' her husband under foot all th' time once he'd retired." That made her grin at him as it was intended, but it didn't stay. "There's more. Tell me."

"I miss…Alicia. Captain Vega. We hung out a lot off duty. Wicked card player. Didn't matter what the game was. She had _no_ mercy. Pool too." She dropped her rod next to her chair, retrieved her hand and drew her legs up wrapping both arms around them. "She sorta had a date the night she…and it was all she could talk about while we geared up." A small ironic grin found its way out. "Had a thing for one of the doctors."

Letting his face light up at the prospect of first-hand gossip, he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Now who could it be? Joval? Harken? Ginsberg? Anton? Am I gettin' close?"

"Keller."

"Och. So the Captain…"

"Was into girls. Yeah."

From the look on her face, Dusty expected him to be appalled that one of her teammates was gay. "Well, I c'n see how she'd be attracted t' Jennifer. She's a lovely girl, but she's been seein' Rodney so I doubt it would've gone farther than a drink or a meal."

"It doesn't bother you?"

"Why should it? It's my thinkin' that as difficult as it is t' find the one person who completes ya, when ye do find him or her, ye shouldn't care what others think. Ye should do what yer heart tells ya is right."

Her eyes narrowed at him. "We're still talkin' about Alicia, right?"

Slightly taken aback by that, he was just a little confused. "Of course."

"You're nothing like I thought you'd be, being a clone and all."

Now she had his curiosity piqued. "And how did ya think I'd be?"

Turning to face him, she laid her cheek on her knees. "Dunno. Just…different."

Carson took a drink of his beer, carefully setting it on the ground next to his chair. "May I ask ya a personal question, love?"

"I like _guys_." Her smirk told him he was being teased.

He returned the expression. "That's a relief." His smile faded. "Tell me about Captain Reed."

~~O~~

Dusty's lighthearted mood turned cold at the mention of her friend. She jumped from the chair, snatched up her beer and went over to lean on the tree where the blanket was still spread and the cold remains of their picnic waited to be disposed of. "Don't wanna talk about him."

"Fine. Tell me this…" he came to stand behind her, close enough to touch, but didn't, "…have ye spoken to Dr. Fry about what happened in the cave-in? Anyone aside from me?"

"No. And I don't intend to."

"But…"

She whirled on him so fast he took a step back as if he thought she'd deck him. "The subject is _closed_, Doctor. That is an order, by the way." His eyes narrowed in anger. He definitely didn't like taking orders from the military. That didn't surprise her. Ali had been one of the few civilians who actually listened when given an order by a soldier.

"We're not on duty now nor are we in a life or death situation, _Sergeant_."

Their standoff lasted about twenty seconds before she threw her bottle at a tree stump then stomped off into the woods.

~~O~~

More than an hour later, Carson had cleaned up as much of the broken glass as possible giving Dusty time to cool down. She hadn't returned so he went looking for her.

He found her sitting on a rock using a stick to draw random designs in the dirt at her feet. She used the sole of her sneaker to eradicate what she'd done then began again. Leaning against a tree, he watched her for a while thinking he should never have encouraged her to talk about Reed. Her reaction meant she wasn't ready. _Some psychologist I'd make. All m' patients would be commitin' suicide within th' month._

"You just gonna stand there?"

Pushing off the tree, he went to her side. She scooted over to give him room to join her so he did. "I'm sorry if I upset ya, love. It wasn't m' intention." One shoulder went up and down then she got up and walked over to stare at a small cave. It wasn't so much a cave as a hole created where two massive slabs of rock had been pushed together millions upon millions of years ago. But it was still a reminder of the death of her friend.

"I _lied_ to him."

"The man was _dyin'_. You only told him what he wanted t' hear. I don't think the Lord will hold it against ye." He touched her shoulder and she pulled away angrily.

"But I keep thinkin' what if he hadn't died? What if we'd been able to save him after what he told me? What if he'd lived and expected him and me to…"

The stiffness in her posture kept him from trying to touch her again. "There's no sense in gettin' caught up in 'what if', love. It's over and done with."

Whirling on him, her hands clenched into fists, she stood toe to toe with him. "Don't _tell_ me how to _feel!_ I don't _like_ it when people do that!" One fist came up as if she were about to hit him, but she didn't. "I wanna go back to Atlantis. Now!"

She headed off in the direction of the lake and Carson followed at a safe distance. Not that he thought she'd actually hit him, but just in case. When he reached their fishing spot she was looking out over the water, her chest still heaving from the strength of her emotions and the exertion of her hike. He thought how it was a good thing she didn't have the ATA gene or she might have taken the Jumper and left him stranded. And he wouldn't have blamed her. Reaching for his beer, he drained the last of it then stowed the empty bottle with the rest of their trash.

Going back to the blanket they'd spread out, Carson knelt down to pack up the leftover food and dishes from their meal. As he finished, he looked up from his task at the sound of Dusty's footsteps crunching in the grass. The sun behind her, she looked down at him with that unreadable expression then reached into her pocket and removed a small foil wrapper. Her wad of gum was carefully enfolded in it then tossed in with the other trash to be taken back to Atlantis and fed to the incinerator or recycled.

She made a little side to side movement toeing off her shoes then, without taking her eyes off of his, knelt in front of him. Her hands, always warm, touched the sides of his face holding him still as she slowly leaned in to press a kiss to his lips. His hands came up to grip her shoulders, sliding around and down to her waist to pull her to him, his hands skimming up and down her back.

Just like the night of their first date, he became filled with heat and passion. Some of it his and some of it hers, the combination becoming greater than the sum of its parts.

The kiss went on so long he became lightheaded as his body's request for oxygen changed into a demand. It must have been the same for her because she pulled away at the same time. The flush of arousal made her already dark eyes even darker and her cheeks pink, and he knew it was the same for him. A cheeky grin came to her lips as she crossed her arms to grasp the hem of her tank top, pulling it up over her head and tossing it to the side with a flick of her wrist. He wasn't given time to enjoy the sight of her in a sports bra and that belly button ring. Lightning fast, those same hands pushed his fishing vest off his shoulders then yanked his shirt from the waistband of his pants, up and off of him with his full cooperation. She nearly had his belt undone before sanity returned enough for him to object. He stopped what she was doing by laying his hand over both of hers. "Dusty, love. I…"

"Please, Carson…"

For the first time since he'd known her, he heard desperation in her voice, saw it in her eyes. She needed to feel something other than the pain. Giving in, he released her hands as she devoured his lips and he hers. She returned to working on his belt, but before she could undo the button revealed when the leather parted, he wrapped an arm around her waist and lowered her to the blanket. Their legs and tongues tangled together in a dance as old as time itself.

His last rational thought was that this was a _huge_ mistake, but he was beyond caring. Just let himself take what she was offering and giving it back.

~~O~~

The ride back to Atlantis had been quiet and uncomfortable with neither Carson nor Dusty speaking as they loaded their gear and took off. Still not speaking, they had gone to crew quarters, parting in the corridor to go to their respective rooms. They didn't talk or see each other again for almost three days, but not because they were avoiding each other. Their schedules were such that their meal and off duty times just didn't coincide.

On the afternoon of the third day, Carson had just sat down at a table in the corner away from most of the other diners and powered up his tablet when a flash of blond hair in the food line caught his eye. Dusty was standing with Dr. Fry, her expression intent as he spoke to her.

Putting his head down so she wouldn't think he'd been staring again, he called up the file he'd planned on reading and picked up half of his sandwich, grilled turkey and aged cheddar cheese with Roma tomatoes on whole grain bread.

He was still embarrassed by the fact that he had allowed their little tryst in the forest to happen. Her feelings on the event were unknown, though it had been anything but insignificant for him. It had been a momentous occasion considering his current status. Of the two of them, _he_ should have been the one to call a halt to their activities, but he hadn't.

"You still talkin' to me?"

Setting his sandwich down and coming to his feet, Carson went to her side and held her chair. "Of course, love. Just been busy. And yerself?"

"Same. Drills. Inspections. General O'Neill's coming in a couple of weeks."

Returning to his seat, he pushed his tablet to the side watching Dusty and trying to gauge her emotions, why she had sought him out today. He didn't have long to wait and that was one of the things he liked about her.

"Sorry."

"For what, love?"

She looked down at her plate, one hand twisting her glass of iced tea back and forth. "The other day. You know, when we…"

Carson was relieved that they had the same thoughts. "It's not necessary t' apologize, though we should've waited a bit longer t' take that step." When she finally looked at him, he saw a mild smirk.

"So you think it won't be that good next time?"

_Och! That's not what I expected her t' say! _"I'm bein' serious, Dusty."

~~O~~

Keeping her features blank, Dusty reined in the little sliver of alarm that wedged itself into her mind. He hadn't called her "love" and that meant business. "You don't want there to be a next time?"

"No." The frustration he felt came through loud and clear in that one word. "Aye, I _do_. But what I'm trying to say is…" he leaned across the table after a quick glance around to make sure they wouldn't be overheard, "…I was…that was my…" The blush that crept over his neck and face told her more than his words.

"You're a _virgin?_"

"Aye. I am…or was."

"And you're _how_ old?"

Exhaling loudly, he sat back in his chair. "It doesnae matter that I have th' memories o' being with a woman. The truth o' th' matter is I've only been alive for a few years. Most o' that time was as a prisoner. Not exactly ideal circumstances in which t' form a lastin' relationship knowin' she'll be dead soon and at my own hand. And that's not all. You and I, we didn't use…protection. What if you're…" She gave him an "oh, really" stare reminding him that he'd been her doctor for months and should know the answer to that question. "Oh. Right. Well, as I was sayin', the other day with you…it was marvelous, but we still should have waited."

~~O~~

She didn't have a comeback for that. Having finished her salad while he was talking, she stood and he did the same. Reaching across the table, she slipped her hand around his neck to bring him close.

"I understand and I'll give you some time. But remember this," her smile was seductive, "I won't wait forever."

Her lips touched his and just like at the lake, he was nearly overcome with want and need, his hands reaching for her without conscious thought. She backed off before he could touch her, picked up her tray and walked away. He watched her go with a groan, closing his lab coat in front before sitting down. Pulling his tablet over, he went back to his reading only to be interrupted by Rodney. The physicist dropped his tray on the table and made himself at home.

"Please, Rodney. Do join me. I'm only goin' over m' research into the altered Hoffan plague so I can better deal with it th' next time I go t' a world bein' ravaged by it."

"Good to see you too, Carson." Rodney snarked back as he draped the napkin over his lap and picked up his fork. "What's up with you and…" he snapped his fingers, a mnemonic to help him remember things. It didn't work this time.

"Staff Sergeant Mehra. And nothing's _up_ with us." Not able to meet his friend's eyes, he forced himself not to blush as he checked that his lab coat was still closed in front. _Well, somethin' __is__ up, but __you__ don't need t' know that._

"That's not what _I_ heard. Rumor has it she laid one on you in the Gate Room the other day."

"Sorry to disappoint you, but the rumor is true. She and I have been dating."

Stopping with his fork halfway to his mouth. "Is that why you look so…"

"So…what?"

Before Rodney could complete his thought, Jennifer joined them.

"Hi, guys." She sat down before the men could stand, scooting close to the table and giving them both a smile. Her smile changed to wide-eyed surprise. "Carson! _You_ had s…"

With a flash of horror that his and Dusty's intimate encounter would be broadcast to the entire base, Carson interrupted Jennifer by standing abruptly. "Somethin' I wanted t' speak t' Mr. Woolsey about. Thanks for th' reminder, love." He tucked his tablet under his left arm, picked up his tray and hurried away.

~~O~~

Jennifer watched Carson's trek across the Mess Hall and out the patio door with amusement and happiness on her friend's behalf. As soon as she'd seen Carson's face she knew that he and Dusty had taken that next step. "Rodney, Carson is your friend. Can't you at least pretend to be supportive of his relationship with Dusty?"

Shrugging, Rodney scooped up a forkful of potato salad. "Fine. But she doesn't seem to be his type." Somewhat mollified, Jennifer took a sip of water, doing a spit-take at his next words. "_I_ think he just needs to get _laid_."

~~O~~

Intent on getting as far away from Rodney as quickly as possible, Carson didn't watch where he was going. When he became aware of his surroundings he was on the balcony, _their_ balcony, his and Dusty's. He'd spent the better part of the last few days trying to process his feelings about them having sex before they were both ready. And try as he might, he couldn't replace the word _sex_ with _making love_ in his mind. What had happened between them had been about fulfilling a need, a release of the intense emotions that had surrounded them, and nothing more. Well, that wasn't _completely_ true.

_Apparently she likes th' idea that there __will__ be a next time. If she hadn't enjoyed herself, she wouldn't ha' said that about not waitin' forever. And __I__ don't want t' wait forever either. But th' next time has t' be perfect. It has t' about makin' love and not relievin' stress._

And he'd told the truth about being untouched. He had the other Carson's memories and had used that to guide him. They had both reached the ultimate pinnacle perfectly in sync. The strength of it had astounded him, and at the time he'd put it down to it being his first time. But now he knew differently.

It had been about proving something. He cared about Dusty and was ashamed that he'd had sex with her to demonstrate to himself that Michael hadn't killed all the goodness inside of him. She had done the same for different yet similar reasons. They both knew it, and if she was okay with it then he should be too, but he couldn't find it within himself to be.

His thoughts were disrupted when Chuck's voice came over the headset.

"_Dr. Beckett to the Control Room immediately! Dr. Beckett!_"

_Not again!_ "This is Beckett. I'm on m' way!"

**TBC**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **Many, many thanks go out to ladygris for her help with this chapter. You comments and suggestions made it more entertaining.

Merci,

~Sandy

**Never Far Away**

**Chapter 8**

The village looked like hundreds of others that Evan had seen since joining the SGC except for the fact that few of the residents roamed the streets. Market stands had been left with their wares unattended, the fruits and vegetables rotting in the sun. Herd animals munched on the grasses and grains provided by those that had escaped being felled by the sickness.

Three teams from Atlantis had been dispatched to assist the medical team with the sick as well as guarding the paths into the village to prevent others from entering or the sick from leaving. The soldiers weren't in hazmat suits due to the vaccines that they regularly received included one for this specific parasite. The soldiers also guarded the homes of those that had perished until someone could claim them, provided a family member could be located and the homes didn't need to be destroyed.

Glancing at his watch told Evan it was time for a perimeter check. "All units report." One by one, each team of two reported clear, except for the ones at the clinic. It was just a short walk so he headed in that direction. When he got close he saw that Dusty and Gunny weren't in their assigned positions. Dusty should have been at the front door with Brackman guarding the back. He picked up the pace "Brackman, Mehra. Report!" Static crackled in his headset just as he reached the meeting hall that had been turned into the clinic.

"Inside, sir."

Dusty's voice sounded strained. Weapon at the ready, Evan lifted his right foot, kicked the door and rushed inside. In the far corner, Brackman and Dusty were helping Carson and a medic lift and move one of the patients that had died. The man was tall and had been solidly built until his body was ravaged by the parasite.

The source was destroyed, but that didn't help those already infected. Atlantis had contacted Earth for additional supplies that were, at this moment, being whisked to their location by the _Daedalus_, the last step in a tag team effort.

He moved out of the way as they carried the man out the front door and passed him over to the soldiers Evan had called to assist. The soldiers then carried him to the outskirts of town to place him beside the other victims. Carson had advised against burying the dead because the parasite would move into the land and contaminate their soil and crops.

~~O~~

To keep the troops sharp, Evan rotated posts moving Dusty and Gunny from guarding the clinic to patrolling a section of the woods.

"What the hell we doin' out here anyway? No one's come around this area except the Colonel."

The big man shrugged his massive shoulders. "We do what we have to, Sarge."

"But I'm _bored_. At least at the clinic I had Carson to talk to once in a while." She'd given up any sort of pretenses about their relationship the day she'd kissed him in the Gate Room. "Not that you aren't a barrel of laughs, Gunny."

"Lorne just wants us to stay sharp. Being in one place all the time, you become complacent."

"Complacent?"

"It means…"

Dusty kicked a rock. "I _know_ what it means. It means we get the crap posts and I get bored outta my skull." The radio clicked and Lorne's voice came on requesting a report. "South side, grids six, seven and eight clear."

"I better get back to my post. Stay sharp, Sarge."

"You too, Gunny." Dusty roamed around a while longer kicking leaves, branches and anything else that got in her way. Tiring of that game, she leaned on a tree and took out a pack of gum. She was just about to open it when she heard a sound. Not much, but enough to tell her that someone was nearby. Someone who didn't want to be seen.

Her weapon came up as she carefully scanned the forest and underbrush. Whoever it was, they were good. After the first sound, she didn't hear another until a millisecond before she was tackled from behind. Partway into a turn, she landed hard barely missing having her neck snapped on a tree felled by lightning. A much smaller branch broke in two when she fell on it. She hissed in pain but didn't let it stop her.

The weight lying on her was removed when her attacker got to his knees, one hand going to his waist. Light glinted off the blade of a knife and a moment later her P-90 was gone. This guy had obviously been watching closely and had figured out where to cut the strap. His other hand grabbed the radio and ripped it away. Her ear hurt when the headset was pulled from it, but she ignored it and the bruises she knew would appear in a few hours to concentrate on stopping him from leaving. From the look on his face, he wasn't after her body. He just wanted to get away.

On his feet again, he kicked the weapon away. She lost sight of it making a mental note of which direction it had gone as she too got to her feet. The blade was still in his hand. "The _hell_ you doin'? We're here to protect you."

"You will let me pass, _woman_." The snarled words and contemptuous tone came from a face that had seen better days, but not for some time. His was scarred, the nose slightly crooked. All indications that he'd been in more than his share of fights. Well, too bad for him that he was going up against one of the few and the proud.

In response, Dusty just grinned. Her weapon had been taken from her, but she still had her knives, and that was all she needed. "Not on _my_ watch _pal_." She saw his eyes widen at seeing the knife in her right hand as she moved into the fencer's stance, the tip of her blade pointed toward her opponent and her shield hand hovering between her heart and solar plexus.

"I do not wish to hurt you. I just want to leave before I too am brought down by the sickness for which there is no cure."

"Can't let you do that. You could spread it to the other villages." Dusty and the man watched each other. When he moved left or right to try to go around her, she followed telling him he was up against no ordinary woman. "Dr. Beckett's the best doctor we have. He'll find the cure." She said it with conviction, but it didn't help.

"I am not willing to take that chance."

Dusty shrugged indifferently. "Up to you. But don't say I didn't warn ya."

~~O~~

Hearing the sounds of fighting, Gunny rushed to Dusty's aide to find her locked in battle with a man who had to outweigh her by at least thirty pounds. The man had been relieved of his weapon and now relied on his larger stature to try to take _her_ knife.

Knowing Dusty as he did, Gunny snickered to himself. Such a feat would _not_ be easy. He'd trained with her, had even been brought down a few times, finding himself on his back looking up into that dark-eyed smirk. Keeping his distance, he waited for her to signal that she wanted or needed help though he wouldn't hold his breath.

There was a flurry of fighting and the man must have realized that he was outmatched because he shoved Dusty toward Gunny forcing him to release his P-90 in order to catch her. She immediately pushed away, spun and dropped to one knee, her right hand coming up with one of her boot knives.

Before Gunny could bring his weapon up she'd drawn back and thrown the knife. It whistled through the air toward the fleeing man catching one of the billowing sleeves of his shirt and pinning him to a tree. He nearly fell but managed to keep to his feet, his shirt ripping as he yanked it free. Only now he was facing her again with his back to the tree.

As soon as the first knife left Dusty's hand, the second one was out and flying to stick into the same tree only this one missed him, barely. The man looked down to see the knife still quivering between his thighs.

~~O~~

"Get _in_ there!"

Carson and one of the nurses were in the back of the clinic conferring in quiet tones when the front door opened and a bloodied and beaten man was shoved unceremoniously into the room. He stumbled but didn't fall, his chagrined expression telling the doctor that he'd been bested in a fight with the woman who'd propelled him forward. "What's this then?"

"Brought you another customer, doc." Gunny grinned, one hand hooked into his belt in a falsely casual pose.

With a start, Carson saw that Dusty was a disheveled mess, dirt, leaves and even a spider web stuck to her hair and clothing. Sweat had mixed with the dirt on her face leaving streaks where she'd tried to wipe it away. She carried her P-90 in one hand as she led her charge to an empty cot.

"Sit!"

Ignoring the man, Carson's immediate concern was Dusty. He touched her on the arm giving her a quick perusal, seeing no blood and no visible wounds aside from a few scrapes and bruises. "Are ye alright?"

"Yeah. Dumb and Dumber there tried to leave." She glared in the man's direction but he was looking at the floor, all fight gone out of him. "We talked it over and he's decided to stay."

Going to the closet in the back, Carson brought Dusty a clean towel and washcloth. "There's a washbasin in th' back n' fresh water in th' tub beside it. Go and clean up."

Giving him a smile, she unzipped her TAC vest as she went into the small room and closed the door.

The nurse stood ready with everything Carson would need to tend to his patient. Parting the man's dirty hair, the doctor examined the head wound. "It'll need stitches." Gloves were passed to him.

"The woman would _not_ listen to reason. Nearly all in this village has succumbed to the sickness and I do _not_ wish to join them."

"The _woman's_ name is Sergeant Mehra, and she's one o' Atlantis' the best fighters. Yer very lucky that yer injuries aren't more severe. 'N if ye haven't come down with it by now, ye probably have a natural immunity t' th' parasite."

"I did not know of such a thing."

"Well, now ye do. I'll patch ye up then ye can go back to yer home." In a stern voice, Carson added, "And see to it ye stay put or I'll send the Sergeant around t' have a few words with ye again."

"She says that you are the greatest healer your people have ever produced."

"Don't know about that, but it's nice t' know she feels that way."

"She is _your_ woman, is she not?"

Unsure of how to answer that question because he'd been asking himself the same thing, Carson didn't respond immediately. When he did, his tone had taken on its professional neutral quality. "Dusty's her own woman, lad. But she n' I are friends, if that's what yer sayin'." He glared in Gunny's direction at the sound of stifled laughter.

"Sorry, doc. Had something in my throat." The glint of amusement in Gunny's eyes reminded him of Dusty and her reaction to the conversation he'd had with Alison while trying to find a way to deal with Michael's experiments turned loose by Mirellus. His attempts at flirting had kept Dusty amused even through the death of her teammate.

"Oh, shut it!"

**The Next Morning**

"Hey, doc." Carson came to Evan's side, lines of weariness in his face making him look much older than his apparent age. Against the walls, some of the boxes and cases had been repacked, a sign that this would be over soon. Once the patients still in the clinic had been sent home or could be cared for by the others, it would be time to leave. "Have you been able to find out what their burial rituals are?"

"Much like Earth's, Colonel. However, due t' th' nature o' th' illness, I think it best if we begin burning th' bodies as soon as possible. Those that I've spoken to understand that we aren't doin' it t' flout their traditions but t' prevent further spread o' th' illness."

"Got it. So what do you think? Should we take care of the victims we have or wait?"

"We seem t' have turned th' corner on this one, Colonel." Carson nodded in the direction the latest victim had been taken. "That was th' first death in four days compared t' several daily in th' two weeks prior."

"Good. We'll get it set up and let you know. Any of the residents that are able should be there."

"Of course. Their spiritual advisor is gone. Someone should say something for them."

"I will, doc."

Carson touched him on the shoulder. "Bless you, Evan."

~~O~~

The clinic was on a hill and from her vantage point Dusty could see the Army Corp of Engineers building the funeral pyre for the victims. She blew a bubble and let it pop as she made her return trip. Peering in the window, she watched Carson move from bed to bed personally checking on the sick now that he'd sent the nurses back to Atlantis. Those still here were on the upswing and would be going home soon. For now, all was quiet.

He listened to the heart of a young woman barely out of her teens, took the clipboard from under the cot, scribbled a few notes and replaced it. On his feet again, he swayed, reaching blindly for the pillar in front of him, leaning on it for support as he rubbed his eyes. While Lorne made certain the military got at least a few hours of sleep each day, the same couldn't be said for Carson. He frequently sent his staff to rest and stayed to watch over the sick. Questioning her relief told her that he had been working nearly around the clock for almost two weeks.

One night while they'd been on the balcony unable to sleep, he'd told her about the serum that kept his tissues from degrading. They'd been here more than two weeks, but she'd only seen him take it once. She didn't know if he'd forgotten or had run out though neither sounded like him. As hard as he'd been pushing himself, he'd end up as one of the patients if he didn't slow down.

Well, she'd had enough of keeping her mouth shut. She disposed of her gum then clicked her radio tuned to the frequency she and Gunny had been assigned. "Mehra to Brackman."

"_Go ahead._"

"I'm goin' 10-12 for a few. Cover me?"

If the Gunnery Sergeant thought her request odd, he didn't say. "_Roger._"

~~O~~

Having seen Dusty watching through the window, Carson wasn't surprised to look up from his tablet to see her standing over him with one of those looks of hers, the P-90 cradled in both hands like a baby. A very _dangerous_ baby. He'd been resting his eyes and nearly fallen asleep sitting up, the sound of her boots on the wooden floor jerking him back to wakefulness. On this mission, they'd been careful to be friendly, but not too friendly and were never alone together in a way that might be deemed inappropriate for the circumstances or venue. "Help you with something, Sergeant?"

"Yeah. Cut out that _Sergeant_ crap like I'm just another grunt on this mission."

Casting a glance around, he lowered his voice. "I'm sorry, but we ha' t' keep this on a professional level or my medical license, the one Colonel Carter, Colonel Sheppard and Mr. Woolsey went to great pains to have reinstated, could be taken away. My fitness to practice medicine could come into question, especially if a patient dies under my care n' it comes out that you n' I were…misbehavin'."

Dusty grunted, her eyes going darker with anger. "That's _not_ what I mean and you know it. You're so tired right now you can't see straight. Let someone else take over for a while and get some sleep."

"There's no one else, love." He'd just broken his own rule with that, but they were alone and he was so tired he couldn't make himself care. "It's just m'self and th' soldiers with trainin' as medics."

Nodding to the room at large, Dusty narrowed her eyes at him. "Everyone's asleep. Take a nap."

Dusty's radio crackled.

"_Brackman to Mehra._"

"Go ahead"

"_10-11 PDQ._"

"Roger." She rolled her eyes and took a step back. "I gotta go, but this _isn't_ over, Carson_._"

Without another word, she crossed the room and slipped out front again closing the door softly behind her when he knew she wanted to slam it. He decided to take her suggestion for a nap here at his desk rather than in a bed or he might not wake up. Carson had just laid his head down and dropped off to sleep when the door opened again.

"Hey, doc." Evan had returned, his face still covered with the unreadable mask, though it proved next to impossible for him to remove the sadness from his eyes at the terrible loss of life. "We're about ready. You able to get away for the service? Won't take long."

"Just let me freshen up a bit and I'll be there."

"Ten minutes. We'll wait for you."

~~O~~

Coughlin, Sullivan, McGinnis and Giordano stood at each of the four corners of the funeral pyre, their burning torches held high awaiting the order to light the fire. Residents, sick and well, stood or sat around the periphery.

Evan gathered his thoughts as they waited for the sun to be high in the sky before beginning. The sound of heavy footsteps coming up beside him disturbed his concentration. "Sir?"

"Just paying my respects, Colonel. Woolsey wasn't able to come so he sent me in his place." John, in his black uniform as always, crossed his arms, his weight evenly distributed on both feet and eyes locked on the stack of bodies before them.

"Of course, sir." Evan double clicked the radio. "All units, we're about to begin." With a quick glance at his CO, he removed his weapon passing it to John then stepped forward drawing the attention of everyone present. "For those of you who don't know me, my name is Lieutenant Colonel Evan Lorne from Atlantis. I am sorry to inform you that your spiritual leader, Elder Hardwin was one of the first to succumb to the illness. In his stead, I am honored to conduct this service tonight.

"The funeral pyre was suggested by our doctor to prevent the spread of the illness and is not meant in any way to be an affront to your beliefs and traditions.

"Our people have several passages that I would like to recite." Soldiers and villagers alike removed their caps. Folding his hands in front of him, Evan began to speak. "Those we care for must someday pass from our sight, must leave us and the world we know without their radiant light. But we know that like a candle their light will surely shine to brighten up another place more perfect, more divine. And in the realm of Heaven where they shine so warm and bright, our loved ones live forevermore in God's eternal light."

A few of the villagers sniffed their tears away while others wept openly.

"We will now recite a passage from one of our holy books, The Bible." The soldiers came to parade rest in honor of the departed. Evan nodded and the four with the torches began to light the fire. "The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever."

Moving over to stand with John and Carson, Evan glanced at each of them and nodded. "In closing, we will now say the Lord's Prayer." He waited while those that wished to bowed their heads. There were several versions of this particular prayer, but he preferred the New King James version because the wording was more elegant than that of some of the more modern adaptations.

"Our Father, which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy Name. Thy Kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, forever and ever."

As the words were said by the Earth humans, Evan slanted his eyes to the left in surprise. John recited the words along with him, had even bowed his head in prayer. He hadn't thought much about his CO's spiritual leanings though he knew that John hadn't attended a service since his father had died, and not many before that.

"Amen."

~~O~~

Watching from her post in front of the clinic, Dusty said a prayer for the dead. One she'd learned as a child and hadn't realized she'd remembered until now. She had come to Pegasus for the "bad guys who need killin'", but these were good people. They didn't deserve what was happening and she had said so to Carson one of the few times they'd been able to grab a quick meal together. He'd taken her hand briefly adding a sad smile.

_I know, love. But sometimes bad things happen n' we can't always stop it._

Every time someone else died the fight or flight instinct kicked in making her wish for something to shoot. But the "enemy" was an organism too small to see with the naked eye. Carson had shown her the thing under the microscope and it made her blood boil that something so small could be responsible for so many deaths.

She'd tried pacing, but it didn't work. Somehow, when Sheppard or Lorne did it, their minds cleared and they were able to think calmly and rationally. For her, it did the opposite. Moving made her want to move more, to eradicate the thing that caused sadness and death. It also made her sore back ache, but she kept that to herself.

Fortunately, Anne had seen her teammate's restlessness and took her away from one of the sources of her ire. Carson would be back soon and she had more to say about the way he was pushing himself, but it would have to wait. Knowing that, her mind finally began to settle down as they escorted several of the villagers from the clinic to their homes now that they were well enough to take care of themselves. Ricki turned out to be a quick study at driving a cart drawn by a team of service animals that looked like a cross between a horse and a llama. The scientist shook the reins to get the animals going while Dusty and Anne walked alongside. They were there to guard and assist those still weak but on the mend. Before long, Dusty's fight instinct had turned to boredom again.

~~O~~

On the walk back to the clinic, Carson stopped at the well to fill his sustainable water bottle, splashing some of the cool water on his face to combat the sleepiness. When that didn't work, he stood and continued on until a wave of dizziness and nausea overcame him. Leaning on the side of the now cold blacksmith's shop, he waited for the vertigo to pass. The nausea remained however, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since the previous night and that it was near time for his weekly shot of the serum.

Up ahead, Gunny was patrolling the front of the clinic meaning Dusty and he had switched posts to combat boredom or she'd gone on a wee break. The dizziness returned, but he kept going, even giving the Marine a smile. Gunny's intimidating features disguised a kind heart and Carson sensed in him a level of spirituality that one didn't often see in a career soldier. He looked menacing even when he smiled though his family, teammates and friends knew differently. "Ye missed a lovely service, Gunny."

"One of our guys probably recorded it. I'll have a look when we get home."

Once inside, Carson fished a key from his pocket and went to the locked medical case, removing the autoinjector filled with his serum. Normally he could go a full seven days in between treatments but the stress coupled with the lack of sleep made it necessary for him to take it a day early. He used it and returned it to its spot in the case then locked it once more. _Now all I need is a hot meal and t' sleep for a week and I'll be right as rain._

It would take some time to pack up the cots and medical supplies for transport back to Atlantis and he wasn't even close to being done. As much as he wanted to just curl up in a bed, he needed to get this finished, though there was no reason he couldn't have a bit of company while doing it. He shuffled to the door and eased it open, thankful that the weather was mild. "Gunny, would ye mind givin' me a hand with the packin'? I've sent the nurses home and the last of m' patients will be headin' that way in th' mornin'. I'd like t' be ready t' go at first light."

"Glad to, doc." The big man stepped inside, unhooking his P-90 and stashing it were he could get to it easily in case of emergency. The two men worked in near silence, each wrapped up in their own thoughts.

~~O~~

Gunny stripped the linens and pillows from the cots and stuffed them in the large red biohazard containers while Carson took down the used I.V. bags and other medical waste and sealed them in smaller of the red containers.

The I.V. poles were taken down and stacked in a large crate. That done, Gunny began breaking down the cots, folding and stacking them against the wall. He'd just stopped for a quick drink when a crash came from behind him, his right hand reaching for his nine mil. He swung around to find Carson sprawled on the floor unconscious.

**TBC**

**A/N: **The military radio codes:

10-11: In service  
>10-12: Out of service<p> 


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **Many thanks to ladygris for her Beta work. As always, she lends an insight to the story that boarders on genius.

Merci,

~Sandy

**Never Far Away**

**Chapter 9**

Righting the overturned cot, Gunny knelt at Carson's side to check his pulse then rolled him onto his back relieved that he was still breathing. He lifted Carson onto the cot, straightened his limbs and slipped a pillow under his head.

Gunny knew that Carson and Dusty were an item-it had been hard to miss when she'd kissed him in the Gate Room-and he wanted to spare her undue upset so his first call was to his CO. "Brackman to Sheppard."

"_Go ahead, Gunny._"

"10-30 at the clinic, sir."

"_On my way._"

Going to the desk, Gunny snagged the scanner and used it to run a quick scan of Carson's head and torso. He'd had medic training so he had some idea of what the readings were telling him. The doctor hadn't hit his head taking the possibility of a concussion out of the mix.

The front door burst open, John and Evan in the doorway with weapons drawn. Behind them stood a squad of fully armed Marines and two more burst in the back door. John lowered his weapon as he rushed to Gunny's side while Evan sent the others on their way.

"What happened?"

"Passed out, sir." Getting to his feet, Gunny lowered the scanner, glancing from John to Evan. "You might want to get Mehra in here, sir."

"Why?"

Shifting his feet, Evan responded, "She and the doc are…close."

"How close? Friend-close or close as in…" John lifted one eyebrow.

Evan gave him a significant glance. "Close-close, sir."

"Oh." John keyed the radio keeping his voice calm. "Mehra to the clinic ASAP."

~~O~~

At John's call, Dusty's stomach dropped to her feet as she looked to her team leader.

Anne nodded. "Go. I've got this."

"On my way, sir." Jogging back the way they'd come, she reached the clinic in just under two minutes. Inside, she found John, Evan and Gunny watching over an unconscious Carson. "What happened, Colonel?"

"Too much work, not enough sleep, I guess. Brackman and Lorne are taking him back to Atlantis. Go with them and have Keller send someone to take over."

"Yes, sir."

The Master Gunnery Sergeant retrieved his weapon then he and Evan lifted the stretcher they had placed under Carson and Dusty held the door. Staying a couple of steps behind to cover their six, she couldn't completely suppress the alarm that had risen within her when the call had come. The life of the man she'd come to care for was in danger. Within that fear, anger surged and that scared her more than anything. Again, the anger swelled that he would put himself in that situation, that he hadn't taken steps to ensure that they'd be able to be together for a lifetime instead of just a few weeks. _Lifetime? Really? As in happily ever after?_

She'd once heard that an epiphany could hit someone like lightning, and they were right. Her steps faltering just a little, Dusty realized that her feelings for Carson went much deeper than mere friendship or even friendship-with-benefits.

Their encounter on the fishing trip had been amazing, more so than she'd thought it would be considering all the events that had brought them to that moment. Then again, maybe it wasn't that surprising. When you found the right person, everything just seemed to fall into place. And she didn't mean just with the sex. They went together well in most everything they'd done. Two halves of a whole. More so now than when they'd first met.

She wasn't much in the smarts department, but Carson more than made up for that shortcoming. By the same token, she was good at being a soldier. Carson, not so much. It went way beyond the way he made her feel special, that he had a nice smile or the most amazing blue eyes she'd ever seen. And that accent. Not to mention his hot body and…skillful hands, the hands of a surgeon intimately acquainted with those place on the female body that had sent her into orbit at the lightest brush of his fingers.

She thought about their first date, when he'd said he was attracted to her _because_ of their differences. And that had warmed her, softening a heart hardened by years of dealing with personal losses and disappointments.

_So this is what being in love feels like!_

She didn't want to even consider a future in which they weren't together.

Hiding a grin, she dialed Atlantis, sent her IDC and requested medical assistance. She was still angry with him for not taking care of himself, and they'd have to talk about that first. Hopefully he'd be up and around soon so she could tell him how she felt; refusing to even think about the possibility that he might not share those feelings.

~~O~~

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

Carson slowly became aware of the steady sound of the VS monitor then bit by bit, other sounds made themselves known. Next came the smells, the same yet different from the scent of the village he'd just spent the seventeen days living and working in. And that reminded him of something else. He opened his eyes to see an out of focus form in the chair beside his bed. "Dusty?"

"About time you woke up."

Her annoyance easily reached Carson through the fuzziness and helped dispel it. He rolled onto his back, blinking in the bright light. He raised the head of the bed as he rubbed his eyes. "What happened?"

"You passed out." Her feet thumped to the floor as she stood. He'd obviously been out long enough for her to change out of her uniform because her hair was slightly damp and she was in casual clothes. "I'm outta here."

Before she could take more than a step, he reached out and took her hand. "Don't go."

"You want me to stay so I can sit here and watch you _sleep_ some more? Don't think so." She tugged her hand free and crossed her arms. The look in her eyes didn't do much for his peace of mind. She huffed irritably at him. Not one of his favorite sounds from her or anyone else. "You know, I may not be the sharpest knife in the drawer…"

"Dusty…"

"…but I still know when to step back and let someone else take over."

The statement about her intelligence made him just a little perturbed. She wasn't book smart but she was street smart, and that counted as far as he was concerned. "Don't _say_ that, love. You're a smart lass…"

"And _you're_ one of the _dumbest_ smart guys I know. _How_ could you risk your life that way? Did even once think about…"

That she didn't seem to understand ticked him off. "I'm a _doctor!_ That is _not_ a nine-to-five job. It's all day, every day. Rain, shine, wind, hot or cold. When yer needed, ye can't just tell 'em t' call someone else 'cause ye don't feel up to it. Ye _know_ what I'm talkin' about. It's the same with being a soldier."

"Yeah well, _my_ job is to protect you so you can do _your_ job, but just like before, you wouldn't let me do it. You ignored what I said and did it your own way and _now_ look what happened. Gunny and Lorne had to _carry_ you home."

In an effort to chase away her ire, he leaned forward and attempted to take her hand again adding an apologetic smile. "Please, love. I don't want t' fight with ye. Sit with me n' let's have a bit of supper."

"Too late!" She whipped around and stormed out of the Infirmary.

Moments later, Jennifer came to his bedside watching Dusty leave. She appeared so quickly that she had to have heard everything. "She's right you know."

"Aye. But m' male pride wouldnae let me apologize."

For the second time in as many minutes a woman snorted at him, this time in amusement. "If you plan on spending any length of time with her, you might want to rethink that policy, Carson." Not wanting to give in though he knew he should, Carson clamped his lips together while Jennifer rolled her eyes. "Think you can eat something?"

"Aye." Finally giving in, he grinned sheepishly. "I hear th' _crow_ is rather tasty."

Jennifer chuckled and squeezed his hand. "Might want to save that for when you apologize."

"Jennifer, love. Could ye have that sent t' m' room? I promise t' take the night off 'n rest."

She returned to his side. "Oh, you'll be resting alright. You can go, but you're off duty for the next three days. No work at all."

"But, love…"

"Don't 'but love' me or you'll spend those days _here_. Got it?"

Carson exhaled loudly. "Aye."

She removed a bundle from the bedside table wrinkling her nose in distaste. "Here are your clothes. They're a little…"

"I know." He swung his legs over the side and got to his feet while Jennifer removed the wires from his chest and temples. "I'll be gettin' a shower before I have supper."

"Good idea. Come on. I'll walk you."

~~O~~

Storming through the halls of Atlantis, Dusty by turns seethed and felt bad for the argument she and Carson had, going over and over it in her mind. There may have been better ways of handling the situation, but they just didn't work for her. She knew the comparison between their jobs was valid, but his circumstances were different than a regular doctor's.

"Ah, there you are, my dear. I was hoping to see you today."

"Doc." Dusty had her hands shoved into her pockets.

"I don't get much exercise. Mind if I walk with you a bit?" Fry hooked his arm around her left elbow

"Won't be good company, but okay." A shrug was added.

Fry chuckled at her tone annoying her further. She waited for him to mention the fight she had with Carson, but he didn't, just held on and kept their pace slow and easy. Eventually, she began to calm down, the adrenaline fading with the easing of her temper. And when it did, the ache from where she'd landed on the branch made itself known. The longer they walked the harder it became to put one foot in front of the other.

The psychologist drew them to a halt in front of the Mess Hall. "I'm feeling a bit peckish. Would you care for a snack?"

"Sure." Dusty agreed partially because he wouldn't let go of her and because her back hurt so bad right now she just really needed to sit down.

Usually teeming with life, the Mess Hall was nearly deserted. Fry led her to a table in a corner then went into the kitchen to get them something to munch on. He returned with a pot of tea and two real china cups, seating himself across from her. "I've asked the pâtissière to whip us up something."

"The what?"

"The pastry chef. Meanwhile, would you care to talk about the argument you had with Dr. Beckett?"

"How do you always _know?_ Is someone _spying_ on me, on us?"

Fry poured the tea, responding calmly to her incensed accusation. "Of course not. Need I remind you that I'm still the staff psychologist?" He passed her a cup, one eyebrow raised in a mild rebuke.

She shook her head. "So why're we here?"

"To talk, my dear."

A young woman appeared from the kitchen, quietly placing a small dish in front of each of them. A little relieved that it wasn't Spotted Dick, Dusty picked up her spoon and took a bite before responding. "What about?"

"Anything. Nothing. Whatever you wish. This is about _you._"

To stall, Dusty sipped her tea and took small bites of the rich dessert. "Carson's in the Infirmary, as a _patient._"

"And…"

"He's a doctor. He should know how to take care of himself instead of worrying his…friends."

"So doctors aren't supposed to succumb to illnesses?" Fry spooned a bit of the mango coulis examining it intently before eating it.

"This is different."

"How?"

Dusty dropped her eyes to the tabletop sipping her tea. "Just is."

"There must be a reason you believe that he's different than any other medical professional in the history of the universe. You haven't once mentioned that he's a clone, so could it be that you have…feelings for this particular doctor?"

Just for a moment, she considered telling Fry everything. But only for a moment, her natural reserve clicking into place and her features going blank. She pushed away from the table. "I'm done here. Thanks for the dessert." But when she tried to stand, pain shot up to her shoulders and down both legs bringing tears to her eyes. "Oh, crap!"

Fry came around the table to her side. "What is it?"

"My back. I hurt it in a fight offworld."

"You should be in the Infirmary." He tapped his headset. "Fry to…"

Grabbing his arm, Dusty hissed in pain. "No! I'll just go to my room and lie down like Dr. Cole told me to. Just…give me a few minutes."

He did as she requested returning to his chair across from her. "So you're here ADA, against doctor's advice?"

She looked up sharply pining him with a glare. "It's not the same thing. I'm a soldier, sworn to protect and defend…"

"Do you know what the Hippocratic Oath is?"

Her pain was put on the back burner for a moment at his change of subject. "Heard of it. Why?"

"It is very similar to that taken by the military at the time of enlistment." Fry folded his hands in front of him, his expression somber, his cultured British accent giving the words elegance.

"_I swear in the presence of the Almighty and before my family, my teachers and my peers that according to my ability and judgment I will keep this Oath and Stipulation._

"_To reckon all who have taught me this art equally dear to me as my parents and in the same spirit and dedication to impart a knowledge of the art of medicine to others. I will continue with diligence to keep abreast of advances in medicine. I will treat without exception all who seek my ministrations, so long as the treatment of others is not compromised thereby, and I will seek the counsel of particularly skilled physicians where indicated for the benefit of my patient._

"_I will follow that method of treatment which according to my ability and judgment, I consider for the benefit of my patient and abstain from whatever is harmful or mischievous. I will neither prescribe nor administer a lethal dose of medicine to any patient even if asked nor counsel any such thing nor perform the utmost respect for every human life from fertilization to natural death and reject abortion that deliberately takes a unique human life._

"_With purity, holiness and beneficence I will pass my life and practice my art. Except for the prudent correction of an imminent danger, I will neither treat any patient nor carry out any research on any human being without the valid informed consent of the subject or the appropriate legal protector thereof, understanding that research must have its purpose with the furtherance of the health of that individual. Into whatever patient setting I enter, I will go for the benefit of the sick and will abstain from every voluntary act of mischief or corruption and further from the seduction of any patient._

"_Whatever in connection with my professional practice or not in connection with it I may see or hear in the lives of my patients which ought not be spoken abroad, I will not divulge, reckoning that all such should be kept secret._

"_While I continue to keep this Oath unviolated, may it be granted unto me to enjoy life and the practice of the art and science of medicine with the blessing of the Almighty and respect of my peers and society, but should I trespass and violate this Oath, may the reverse be my lot."_

~~O~~

Fry watched Dusty's eyes as he recited the oath all medical doctors took giving her time to think it through. He was a patient man. He would give her all that she required. And there it was. Her expression didn't change, but there was something in her eyes, a spark, a flicker of sudden realization that she'd only been seeing a small part of the bigger picture.

She pressed her palms to the edge of the table using them to scoot her chair back. However, when she tried to stand, her back spasmed drawing panting breaths from deep inside. Again, she tried to stand with the same results. "Well, don't just sit there! Help me up!"

"Of course." As if he'd only just thought of it, Fry went to her side, slipping an arm around her waist while she gripped the other tightly. "On three then. One…two…"

"Ow!" She stayed bent slightly at the waist, but at least she was on her feet and pushing his hands away. Making a slow and obviously painful first few steps, she limped away.

"Where are you going, Sergeant?"

A scornful huff drifted over her shoulder as she slowly made her way to the door. "Where the hell do you _think?_ The Infirmary!"

When she'd gone, Fry returned to his seat, poured himself another cup of tea and quietly chuckled to himself. A few moments later, the young woman returned, looking down at Dusty's unfinished dessert with disapproval. "She didn't like the coconut-lime cheesecake?"

"She did. The Sergeant had an appointment she was late for." He drew her into the chair beside him keeping hold of her hand. "Pasha, my love, I do believe we shall soon be receiving a request to cater a wedding."

Her brown eyes lit up. "Great! I'll get started on the menu tonight."

He kissed the back of her hand. "Save that for tomorrow." Getting to his feet and urging her to do the same, he tucked her hand into the bend of his elbow. "Shall we retire for the night?" Her wicked grin told him she liked that idea. "There's just one stop I need to make on the way."

~~O~~

At the sound of the chime, Carson rushed to the door, slapping his palm over the censor. "Dusty!"

"Sorry to disappoint you, Dr. Beckett. I am, alas, alone."

Turning away from Fry, the Scot returned to the sofa and his unfinished meal. "What do you want?" He had tried calling Dusty several times without receiving a response. His irritation made his words a little sharper than he meant them to be.

"To check up on you. Heard there was a bit of a situation offworld."

"I passed out due t' exhaustion, low blood sugar 'n dehydration 'n had t' be carried back t' Atlantis like a…"

"…patient?" Fry supplied as he followed Carson into the room, the door sliding shut behind him.

"Aye."

"How are you feeling?"

"How d'ya _think_ I feel? Like a bloody _fool!_ Dusty was right. I should've asked Atlantis for more help, but I had t' do it m'self like I'm th' only doctor in th' Pegasus galaxy."

"Lesson learned, eh, doctor?" Standing in the middle of the room, Fry clasped his hands in front of him and looked Carson in the eye. "You know what the next step is."

"Tell this t' Dusty."

Nodding, Fry agreed. "I'm sure there's more to it."

"Aye. The lass also needs t' know that I've fallen in love with her, that I want t' spend th' rest o' my life makin' her happy." Carson pushed off the sofa, one hand brushing through his still damp hair.

"As a friend, my advice is to begin with the apology then segue into the avowal of unconditional love."

"I'll bear that in mind." Gesturing, Carson escorted Fry to the door. "Have ye any idea where she might be?"

"I'm sure she's never far away. Good night, doctor."

While brushing his teeth, Carson considered checking out Dusty's usual haunts. They had much to talk about and it was best they get to it soon. Going to his closet, he took out shirt and pants, tossing them on the foot of the bed. Reaching for his sneakers, a wave of fatigue made him lightheaded. He thought better of his plan to hunt down the woman he loved and instead, climbed into bed falling asleep almost instantly.

In the morning, he awoke refreshed and felt better equipped to face the world…and Dusty. He showered, shaved and dressed then went to her door to invite her to breakfast.

There was no answer to his summons and none to his radio call. Thinking that she must be working out, he decided to make a stop in the Infirmary just to see how things were shaping up for the day, maybe even lend a hand if necessary.

What he hadn't expected to see was the very person he'd been looking for undergoing an ultrasound treatment on her lower back. He nodded to let the technician know he would take over and the woman left them alone.

"How much longer? Don't really like bein' on my stomach."

"I'd say another minute or so will do th' trick for now."

Dusty turned her head in his direction and started to roll over, stopping when he touched her on the shoulder. "Stay put, love. It's almost over." He removed his hand when she settled back into place with a grunt. "What's this then? How'd you hurt yourself?"

"Fell during my fight with the village idiot. Dr. Cole insisted on keepin' me overnight."

"So this…" he indicated her being in the hospital bed, "…happened _after_ our little disagreement and you stormed off into the night?" The device dinged drawing a sigh of relief from Dusty. Carson removed the sticky pads and she groaned as she rolled onto her back again.

"Doesn't matter. She's letting me go this afternoon."

"Where she'll be on bed rest and ultrasound for the next two days. We'll put her under the scanner one more time and if everything looks normal, she'll be good to go." Carson was relieved that Dusty would be okay as much as he was that Amanda had nipped the argument in the bud before it blossomed out of control. "You're not supposed to be here, Carson."

"Jennifer said I wasnae t' be working, but she didnae say I couldnae visit a friend."

Amanda eyed him doubtfully. "Huh. I'll order breakfast for _two_ then."

~~O~~

Carson left his room with a bounce to his step. His recovery had gone much quicker than anticipated and he'd been cleared to go back to work with the condition that he take it easy for the next few days. Before going to the Infirmary, his first case of the day would be to check on Dusty. Purely professional, of course. He grinned to himself as he announced his presence whistling while he waited. When no response came to his second request, he became concerned that she'd fallen and didn't have her headset.

"Dusty? It's Carson." Rapping the door with his knuckles, he leaned close to catch the smallest sound, but still heard nothing. "Time t' break out th' big guns." He tapped his headset. "Beckett to…"

The door open and there she stood, her face slightly flushed. "Hey."

He leaned in for a quick kiss then entered so the door could close. "I'm here in a professional capacity. Come to check on how yer feelin'." She lowered herself slowly to the side of the bed while he completed a quick exam. At his touch on her back, she made several sharply indrawn breaths but didn't cry out or stop chewing her gum.

"Bored. When can I at least go for a walk?"

"Well, if ye keep makin' progress, we can go for a short one tonight, if you like."

"Great. Gonna bring dinner?"

His smile made her smile as well. "Of course." Suddenly shy with his feelings for her, he glanced down at his lap. "Dusty, love. I…" The toe of one of her sneakers peeked out from under the bed as if it had just been shoved out of the way. That set alarms off in his head because the rest of her shoes were lined up neatly in the bottom of her closet, an empty space where these belonged. His eyes narrowed. Around her ankles were small indentions where the top of her socks stopped though her feet were bare. When his eyes found hers again she looked away, but not before he saw the guilt. Something in them made him go to the treadmill. It was on but idle. He whipped around, fuming.

"Before you get mad…"

"A bit late for that. Yer _supposed_ t' be on full bed rest, gettin' up t' use the loo, for meals 'n nothing more. Do ya _want_ t' hurt yerself more than ya already are?"

"Look, Carson, as a Marine, I deal with fear only one way. I run, spar, or I just _shoot_ it. By making me stay here you're taking that away!"

"And by not takin' care o' yerself, you run the risk of it becomin' a chronic condition. And believe me, you dinnae want t' to go through th' rest o' yer life with chronic back pain. M' da dealt with it the last twenty or so years before he died, 'n if I had t' watch ye go through it as well, it would just about kill me."

She gripped the edges of the mattress. "But I'm _bored!_"

"Read, watch movies, take up knittin', anything, but stay in bed!"

The half-smile she gave him held no humor. "I'd take that as a proposition if that vein in your forehead wasn't throbbing."

~~O~~

Dusty knew that was the wrong thing to say when his eyes darkened with anger he didn't try to hide. "Okay. _Fine._ I'll stay in bed."

"See that ya do." Carson had gone to the door, his hand raised to touch the sensor when something he said gelled in Dusty's head. "Carson? What were you gonna say?"

"Say?"

"Before, um…you were gonna say something." It was his turn to look awkward and guilty. The awkwardness was a part of him and one of his most endearing traits though now wasn't the time or place to tell him.

"Let's save that for later." He hesitated, his mouth opening and closing before he sighed in frustration. "We need t' talk, 'n as soon as yer well enough, we will."

"Tell me now."

Again he wavered, but it was Jennifer's voice over the PA that made the decision. "_Beckett to the Infirmary stat!_"

"Beckett. On m' way!" He glanced at her one more time before jogging out of her room.

"_Crap!_ Guess the dinner date's off." Blowing a huge bubble, Dusty carefully swung her legs up onto the bed and lay staring up at the ceiling for a long time. Her back hurt, but not as much as her heart. And that sucked because no amount of physical activity would ever relieve the ache.

**TBC**

**A/N: **The military radio code:

10-30: Request Assistance - This is actually a non-emergency code. The author took a few liberties with the meaning.

SL


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** Ladygris Beta'd this chapter for me. Thanks so much!

Gracias,

~Sandy

**Never Far Away**

**Chapter 10**

**The Next Night**

Gunny dropped into his seat passing one of the beers to Carson. "What's got your boxers in a bunch, doc?"

Carson took a drink of his beer before responding. "I had wee disagreement with Dusty 'n we haven't spoken since yesterday."

The medical doctor didn't elaborate and Gunny didn't ask. He'd probably get the straight dope as soon as she was released back to duty.

The men settled into a relaxed and companionable silence, both watching the couples on the dance floor. His acute hearing, which rivaled Dusty's, picked up the sound of voices behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, a potted tree blocked the way so he couldn't see who was talking, but he didn't much like what they were saying about the base commander. He mentally labeled them Putz One and Putz Two. At the moment, Putz One was doing most of the talking. The second voice, Putz Two, was accented, but Gunny couldn't immediately place it.

"_Woolsey has no business being in charge of Atlantis."_

Snickering_. "Yeah, just like __Sheppard__. He only got the job because Sumner was killed by a Wraith. Weir went to bat for him and the next thing you know he's got an undeserved promotion and it's official."_

"_What could the IOA and General O'Neill have been thinking?"_

"_No idea. That probe was like the Holy Grail and they just let it go. And did they even think about Science and Research? No."_

"_Just think about the real world applications their technology might have had."_

"_Not to mention the money we'd have gotten for our…"_ Carson could almost hear the air quotes _"…inventions."_

That was more than enough as far as the Master Gunnery Sergeant was concerned. He set his beer carefully on the table, scooted his chair back and stood.

"Where ya goin', Gunny?"

Gunny flexed his hands, cracked his knuckles and rolled his shoulders. "To teach a couple of big mouths a few lessons."

Carson took a long drink of his beer and stood as well. "I'll come with ya."

Gunny put a hand out to stop Carson from following or interfering. "Stay out of the way, doc, but don't leave. They're gonna need medical attention when I'm done."

Peeking around the tree, Carson saw that the voices belonged to scientists, not soldiers as he'd expected. "Those are Rodney's people. Let him handle it." For a moment he thought the other man was going to continue with the planned butt-whooping until he nodded.

"Okay."

~~O~~

Unaware that they'd been overheard, Putz One and Putz Two went on to their next subject: Sheppard.

"…_and every time they stay overnight you can bet it's because Sheppard's spending the night playing slap-and-tickle with some sweet young thing who doesn't know any better than to fall for his supposed charms."_

"_But they stay overnight almost every time they go out._"

Putz One snorted. "_That's__ my __point__! He must have a girl on every planet they've been to in the last five or six years. Case in point. The last time I went offworld with Sheppard's team we were negotiating for a cache of Ancient tech the locals had found. They were willing to part with it, but at a price._

"_So I'm off with McKay giving them a look-see when our 'escorts' pull out their weapons and herded us back to the palace. Their leader was this Amazon with blond hair down to her thighs, big green eyes and a body that would make even J-Lo jealous. And the way she was dressed! The front was so low you could almost see her navel and the slits went all the way up. Anyway, she'd gotten upset about something that Neanderthal did and halted the negotiations._

"_When we get there, Sheppard's in the woman's bedchamber and all we can hear is the two of them giggling and laughing. This went on for at least two hours. But I do have to give him credit. Whatever he did to her, she was much more amenable when he was done. She comes out waving a hand and telling us to take whatever we wanted."_

It continued on in that vein, the two men disparaging and maligning the senior staff one at a time. Carson knew that Gunny was upset and he wasn't the only one. But Carson figured it would make more of an impact if Rodney were to reprimand them than to have Gunny on report for knocking their heads together.

Carson went to the bar to get the next round and on his way back, he heard his own name. The remarks they made didn't really bother him but Gunny was another matter. The big Marine once again started to rise and Carson hurried to assure him that he wasn't offended. Gunny didn't like it, but he went along with his friend. By mutual unspoken agreement, they just sat back and listened, the two scientists giving them more than enough rope for Rodney to "hang" them with.

Eventually even Carson had enough. He walked around the tree to their table, standing before them with his arms crossed. "Gentlemen, and I use the term loosely, I happened to have been on the mission t' which ye were referrin' previously and must inform ye that yer completely wrong about Colonel Sheppard in general and Odelia in particular."

"We _heard_ them in there together…_alone_. So don't try to tell _me_…"

"Och, but I _am_ tellin' ya. Ya see, I was there in th' room with Sheppard and Odelia, and no we weren't playin' games. The two o' them talked while I treated her son for allergic dermatitis.

"So before you go belittlin' people behind their backs, be certain of yer facts. As a scientist you know the consequences of makin' an assumption based on little or no hard evidence. In this case, it led ye t' an erroneous conclusion, that the Colonel and Odelia had been spending…quality time together." Both men look contrite, or at least tried to, but it didn't reach their eyes telling Carson that they didn't believe him. "Ye've had enough t' drink, lads. It might be a good idea to retire for th' night while I'm still in th' mood t' be generous."

The two men didn't even consult one another, the one with the biggest mouth doing the talking as before. "Thanks for the advice, but we're staying."

Throwing up his hands, Carson shook his head. "Suit yerself. But ye might want t' move t' another table before ye get into trouble. Others…" he nodded in Gunny's direction, "…might not be as forgivin'."

Putz One looked as if he wanted to continue the argument, but Putz Two held him back, the two of them staring at Carson until he turned and walked away.

~~O~~

Gunny eyed the scientists between the leaves of the tree as Carson seated himself with a sigh. In his opinion, those two were _not_ an asset to the human race. The doctor wasn't in his chair more than a minute before they started up again. This time making remarks about the female staff, mild by the standards they'd already established, at least at the beginning. Slanting his eyes to the side, even in the dim lighting of the bar he could see that up until now Carson had been holding it all in not wanting to lose his temper. But that time was coming to an end if the tightening of the skin around his eyes and mouth was any indication.

The Marine scooted his chair back in preparation for giving them the thrashing they so richly deserved, stopping when he heard the name of a friend and teammate being bandied about. Again he studied Carson's expression, not liking it one bit.

"…_yeah, Teldy is a cold b****, but Mehra's got her beat."_ This was Putz Two. _"I asked her out and all I got was an icy stare and an equally subzero 'no'. I thought it was because she didn't like geeks, but if that were true then why is she with Beckett?"_

Putz One took over digging them into a hole they'd never get out of. _"I guess she owes him and using her body is the only way she can pay him back."_

Carson's bottle slammed to the table. As he started to rise, Gunny stopped him. "Doc, you're not gonna…"

"In peace there's nothing so becomes a man/As modest stillness and humility: But when the blast of war blows in our ears/Then imitate the action of the tiger."

Confused, Gunny narrowed his eyes at the doctor. "And that means…"

"Pray for peace, but be ready to defend those ye care about." Carson stood so abruptly his chair fell over, his bottle shattering when it hit the floor. Before Gunny could stop him, the doctor had skirted the tree and confronted the two men once more. Shaking his head, Gunny followed to make sure the other two didn't gang up on him.

"Lad, I think ye should _rephrase_ that."

The two men smirked at each other, Putz One standing up and showing himself to be at a few inches taller than the medical doctor. "You're right. I should. What I _meant_ to say is, whatever it was she paid for with sexual favors, well, _you_ got ripped off."

The last word was hardly out of Putz One's mouth before Carson's fist hit him in the jaw spinning him around. He fell onto the table overturning it and sending him crashing to the floor.

Seeing his friend on the floor turned up the heat under Putz Two. His right hand balled into a fist, swinging into a clumsy punch that impacted with Gunny's chest when he pulled Carson out of the way. The man looked up at the big Marine with foreboding a split second before he was socked in the face.

~~O~~

Both men lay on the floor looking up at Carson and Gunny as if they couldn't believe what had just happened. His mind filled with fury, Carson started forward again intent on doing even more harm. He grabbed the man's shirt, dragged him to his feet, cocked his arm and hit him with an uppercut that staggered him. Carson released him and he stumbled over to another table. It didn't fall over, but drinks were spilled.

Not yet done with the man, Carson followed again grabbing his shirt and dragging him into a small pool of light where he slammed a fist into his stomach. The man had been stunned as much by the fact that the doctor would hit him in the first place as by the strength behind those punches.

Putz Two came to his friend's aide, grabbing Carson's shoulder and spinning him around. Carson's hold on Putz One slackened enough for him to get away, Carson preparing himself for a hit that never came.

Gunny had taken hold of the arm that had been poised to punch and had pulled him away. He didn't hold back like he had the first time sending the man flying up against the bar.

When Carson released Putz One, he fell against the Athosians' table, knocking it and all its contents to the floor. Beer splashed sending a wave of the amber liquid all over. As a group, the four men got to their feet and formed a line, their faces dark with anger as they were confronted by Gunny and four other soldiers who had seen what was going on and were now spoiling for a fight.

The room had gone quiet except for the music droning on heedless of the events about to take place.

Carson recognized the Athosians as troublemakers. In an effort to defuse the situation, he smiled contritely, but two of the Athosians stepped forward eyeing Carson up and down, ignoring the other grunts. The one on the left flexed his hands glaring at the scientists and Carson. "You owe us an apology."

The one on the right took that same step up. "And drinks."

"I'm sorry ye've lost yer drinks 'n I'll be happy t' replace them as soon as those two…" he nodded at the Putzs "…apologize for the things they've been sayin' t'night. Especially what was said about…" He didn't a chance to finish as a fist hit him in the stomach. He grunted and bent at the waist putting him in the perfect position slam his attacker, Putz One, in the chest with his shoulder. The two men fell to the floor grappling and rolling back and forth each looking for an opening.

The Athosians, not happy with the course of events, launched into an attack on Gunny and the other four. Fueled by alcohol, punches flew as did bodies as an all-out old fashioned barroom brawl erupted. Tables, chairs, glassware, dishes, pool cues, anything that wasn't tied down or too heavy to lift became projectiles or weapons.

~~O~~

The only light in the room came from the dual moons of New Lantea illuminating the couple asleep on the bed. Spooning John from behind, Amanda's soft snores were the only sound aside from the environmental system until he was startled awake by the PA.

"_Operations to Colonel Sheppard!"_

Instantly awake, he reached for his headset slipping it over his ear. "Sheppard. What's going on?"

"_There's a situation in the bar."_

"What _kind_ of situation?"

"_Fighting, sir."_

"Send two squads and medical. I'll meet them there."

"_On the way, sir."_

John eased out of Amanda's embrace, already reaching for his shoes. He thought about getting into uniform but didn't want to take the time. He was already running a hand through his hair on the way to the door when the bed creaked and bare feet hit the floor with a thump.

"I'm coming, too." Amanda shoved her feet into her shoes, John slapped the sensor and both took off at a jog.

~~O~~

Those not involved in the fight stood on the sidelines cheering, switching sides at random though most seemed to favor Carson over the others. The manager and his staff just watched, their main concern the cleanup that would follow. Security had already been called so now all they had to do was wait for them, and Sheppard, to appear.

Carson regained his feet, dropped into a boxer's stance and proceeded to pummel Putz One senseless. No Marquess of Queensberry rules for him! He hit, gouged, poked and stomped with impunity, above and below the belt, not giving the other man time to get in a shot. Not that he was in any shape to do so as he staggering around the floor trying to get his hands up to defend himself. The effort was futile though and with one last uppercut to the jaw, Putz One was out of the game. His head snapped back and he just kept going until he lay on the floor unconscious.

A hand on his shoulder spun him around and Carson found himself face to face with one of the Athosians, Mahesh, a young man known to have a precarious hold on his temper. The Athosian's fist shot out, but wasn't permitted to reach its target, namely Carson's gut. Carson stepped into the swing, grabbed the man's arm, spun in a circle and sent him flying into one of the soldiers, a young woman. The second lieutenant elbowed the Athosian in the face sending him back toward Carson who stuck a foot out and tripped him. The woman nodded and flashed him a grin. In response, Carson flipped her a salute just before Putz Two reared up in front of him.

Putz Two wasn't much of a fighter and it was apparent in his clumsy attempt to sock Carson in the stomach. Again, Carson stepped out of the path of the man's fist and wrapped one arm around his neck, using this advantage to drag the man around the floor. Putz Two had one arm trapped behind Carson's back, but all he could do it claw at Carson's shirt in an attempt to free himself.

Suddenly, the music stopped and all the lights came on, though the fight continued until an authoritative voice shouted, "What the HELL is going on?" Backing him up were two squads and a medical team, including Amanda and Jennifer. Rodney and Ronon pushed their way to John's side, Rodney just staring while the Satedan looked disappointed that he'd missed a great fight.

Still holding onto Putz One's neck, Carson turned them both to face the owner of that voice. "Colonel Sheppard!"

~~O~~

John surveyed the scene, his eyes wide as one by one the soldiers sorted themselves out and came to parade rest. The Athosians came together as a group off to one side. Putz One was still out, lying nearly on his stomach.

His hazel eyes, widening slightly in surprise, came back to Carson and Putz Two. "Doc!"

"Oh…" Belatedly, Carson loosened his hold allowing the other man to stand upright.

The only sounds in the room were the shifting of weight on the wood floor and the occasional clearing of a throat as they all waited for John to speak again. "Who started it?" John settled his weight on both feet prepared to wait out the culprit and was surprised again when Carson raised his hand.

"That would be me, Colonel."

Not able to hold onto his unreadable expression, John let the shock show. "_You_ started…" he waved at the wreckage that had once been an off duty sanctuary for the staff, "…_this?_"

"Aye. Though I was provoked inta it by somethin' _he_ said." he pointed to the man lying on his side in the middle of the dance floor.

"O-kay. You and I will talk later." John raised his voice so it could be heard by all involved in the skirmish. "Listen up! Once your injuries have been taken care of, get to work cleaning this place up then get out. For the next two weeks, you're all restricted to quarters except for meals and missions. That includes you, doc." The military personnel came to attention and waited to be dismissed before following John's orders as the medical team went to the man on the floor.

"Dr. Keller!"

The medic's tone drew both Jennifer and John. She crouched next to the man, her hand on his shoulder to roll him onto his back. Gasping, she looked up at John standing beside her. "Oh, my God!"

John took one look and the amusement at finding out that Carson had been the instigator changed to alarm. "Everyone _stop_ what you're doing! _Now!_" He gestured for the leader of the guards that had arrived with him, Captain Mizrahi. John leaned close, lowering his voice. "No one _leaves_. No one touches _anything_. Get Colonel Lorne down here too."

"Yes, sir." The Army Captain turned away. "Back to your seats, everyone. Let's go!" A Sergeant draped a tablecloth over the man on the floor then took up a guard position.

"Colonel?" Carson pushed his way through a small cluster of people staring at the floor. He'd heard the alarm in Jennifer's voice, his doctor's instincts rearing up. A guard stepped into his path, weapon held ready. "What's goin' on?"

"Don't come any closer, doc."

The order hit Carson like a sledgehammer. "Colonel, _please_ tell me what's goin' on!"

Jennifer came to his side, touching him gently on the arm. "Carson, the man you argued with is dead."

**TBC**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **Once more, thanks to ladygris for having a look at this for me.

Gracias,

~Sandy

**Never Far Away**

**Chapter 11**

Jennifer's words stunned Carson. "That cannae _be!_ I dinnae hit him that hard. Och! He must've hit his head when he fell." That he might have committed manslaughter, even by accident, greatly disturbed him.

"No. That's not it." The medic came to her side and whispered in her ear. She nodded and faced Carson and John again. "He was stabbed in the abdomen with a broken beer bottle."

Mizrahi saw the order in John's eyes. He nodded and one of his men moved away. The Lieutenant returned moments later, the look on his face telling him what he needed to know. "Sir, there's a broken bottle on the floor next to the table that Dr. Beckett was sharing with Brackman. Part of it is missing."

Carson could hardly believe the horrific turn the night had taken. "Aye. It broke when I went t' have a few words with… I promise ya I only used m' fists. Never once even had the thought o' doin' the man in. I'd planned on reportin' th' two o' them t' Rodney in the mornin'."

~~O~~

John listened to Carson tell his version of events and later he'd question him to get the full details, but for now he would have to be taken into custody. At least until the investigation cleared him. Any other conclusion was unthinkable. Carson was a healer. His time with Michael notwithstanding, he'd never kill someone just for being a jerk. Across the room, he saw Evan enter, his eyes sweeping the scene before he made his way over to examine the body conferring with Amanda, Jennifer and Rodney.

"I'm sorry, doc, but you need to go with these men. Lorne and I'll be around to take your statement in the morning." John nodded and two dangerous looking soldiers stepped forward. "Take him to the brig." The words left a sour taste in his mouth but he had no choice. He couldn't treat Carson differently than anyone else just because he was a friend. And the situation was made worse with Carson's calm acceptance.

"I understand, Colonel."

Quiet until now, Rodney came to stand next to John watching as the soldiers led Carson from the room. At least they hadn't handcuffed him. "I'll pull the video feeds and Zelenka and I will go over them. I'm not resting until we figure out who did this."

"That isn't going to be ease, Rodney. People come here to unwind. Not to be watched."

"I _know._ But I have to do _something._" A spot of red had soaked through the white material covering the dead man. As he passed, Rodney glanced down, his eyes meeting Jennifer's then he hurried on his way.

John's eyes met those of Amanda as she supervised the moving of the body. She wore her doctor's mask, the one that all medical professionals developed as a self-defense mechanism. But he knew her too well. The next time they were alone she would rant, cry or both. And he would let her.

**The Next Morning**

Though it was early, Gunny stopped at Dusty's door, touching the sensor and waiting for her to respond. She was still on bed rest though, if all went well at her appointment this morning, she'd be back on duty this afternoon. Finally, the door opened.

"Gunny!"

"Sorry to intrude, Sarge. May I come in?"

She nodded and he stepped inside so the door would close. "What's up?"

"Something's happened that you should know about."

"Yeah?"

He declined her offer of a chair, preferring to stand. This wouldn't take long. "The doc and I were having a beer in the bar last night and…"

~~O~~

"Tell me about the fight, doc. What started it?" John and Evan had come to the brig to question Carson on the events of the night before that led to the death of Dr. Nelson Lockhart.

"I'll no' repeat what was said."

John watched the doctor pace nervously and knew it wasn't from guilt. "Look, doc. We can't help you unless you _let_ us. We need to know what set off the fight."

Glancing from one to the other, Carson again got that obstinate look in his blue eyes. "No! I willnae say th' words. I will tell ye that they said some very unflatterin' things about th' entire senior staff, as if all of ye were nothin' but dirt."

"And that's why you hit him."

"No. They went on t' question the fitness o' yourself, Mr. Woolsey _and_ Colonel Lorne t' command this base. Gunny wanted to thrash them seven ways t' Sunday, but I held him back."

"You held him _back?_" Considering their friendship, John was a little put out by that admission.

"Aye. I dinnae think it was worth fightin' about. I mean, we're big enough t' take a few insults, aren't we?"

John and Evan exchanged a glance. "So what was it _exactly_ that made you hit him?"

"He made some unpleasant and totally erroneous assumptions concernin' some o' th' female staff and specifically about…Staff Sergeant Mehra." A blush crept over Carson's features.

"So you hit him after he insulted _Mehra_ and not because he…"

Puffing out his chest proudly, Carson grinned. "Aye!"

"And that's because…"

"Well, Colonel, I'm not in love with _ye_, now am I?"

For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, John was shocked by the usually calm and, to some degree, boring medical doctor and researcher. The first was finding out that Carson could and would fight. Not only that, but he fought _dirty!_ He'd actually been impressed though he hid it well and would never say so, not even to Evan. The second was his admission of his feelings for the plain-speaking, strong-willed, gum-chewing Marine. That the two of them had managed to find each other was almost cliché, like a millionaire falling for the waitress at the roadside diner. He glared at Evan when he couldn't completely stifle a snort of amusement.

"That's good to know. Um, that about you and Mehra…and the other thing."

"Aye."

"Does _she_ know?"

"Not yet. But she's a smart lass. She's probably figured it out." Carson stopped in front of John coming as close to the force shield as he could without touching it. "I'd like t' be there when Jenn does th' autopsy."

"Doc, you can't be involved in any way with this investigation."

A sound of frustration was followed by a curse. "You c'n have as many guards on me as ye wish. Makin' trouble is not m' purpose. I just want t' _observe_, t' be there when…"

Nodding to let Carson know he'd consider his request, Evan followed John out into the hall that led away from the brig area, both determined to resolve the situation as soon as possible. "I am _not_ liking this. We have to solve this and soon."

"I agree, sir. I know he couldn't and didn't do it, but the evidence says otherwise. And the doc's finally found someone to make him happy. If they couldn't be together because of this…"

"Don't even _go_ there, Lorne!"

"Never, sir." They entered the transporter and got out on crew quarters. "I'm not going to enjoy this. Dr. Theodule is certain the doc's guilty."

"I know. Somehow we have to shake his story, trip him up, something. Beckett didn't do it." They stopped in front of a door.

"You're preaching to the choir, sir."

"Yeah." John touched the sensor, the door opening almost immediately showing packing crates sitting here and there, some filled and others in the process of being filled. "Dr. Theodule, we'd like to speak to you about what happened last night."

"If you've come to persuade me to change my story, you can just go on out of here again. Nelson is dead. It's all the fault of that _clone_…" his tone was contemptuous, "…and I'll not be saying otherwise."

"That's not why we're here, doc." John crossed his arms, trying not to lose his temper at the man's tone. Beside him he could feel Evan stiffening as well. "We're just trying to get a complete picture of what happened. Start at the beginning. What time did you and Dr. Lockhart arrive?"

"Near to eight. We'd only been there a half hour or so when…"

~~O~~

In his room, he paced from the door to the bed and back, each step bringing with it the feeling of loss just as powerfully as it had been before. When the opportunity to rid himself of the one he held responsible for the death of his sister had presented itself, he'd taken it by removing from this world a loathsome example of the human race, Nelson Lockhart and having Beckett accused of the crime. He'd thought it would make the pain less intense, that the taste of revenge would be sweet, but it was not. Its taste was fetid, like biting into a ripe pittar fruit expecting it to be honey-flavored and finding it rotten under the skin.

Instead, inside his head he heard Marsika's voice telling him how disappointed she was with his actions. That he should forgive.

But he couldn't forgive _or_ forget. It wasn't in his nature to do so, more now than before the changes that had been forced upon him by the monster known as Michael. That he was now dead meant less than nothing. Up until the moment he'd sensed the death of the Wraith he'd had to force himself not to respond to the mental link they'd shared. He and the others that had been experimented upon had grouped together as far from the Gate Room as possible knowing their greatest strength was in numbers.

They had all survived though their lives had not changed much by having Michael no longer present in their minds. In place of that ghoulish phantom, an emptiness had taken over, a kind of loneliness that no amount of comfort could fill. And though they'd been certain it would soon change, it never did. The anger and frustration frequently reached the boiling point and he would lash out at whoever happened to be in his way. His friends knew this and did not take offense.

He often thought of Marsika and the child she'd just discovered she was expecting when they'd been taken from their homes on New Athos. Michael either hadn't known or hadn't cared that she was with child, the last remaining fragment of her mate who had been culled.

She had been first of the women who'd been subjected to the hybridization. Only in their cases, it had an unintended side effect. The Wraith part of them had taken over, changing their very nature in ways that Michael could not have foreseen. The women turned into queens, their minds nearly as powerful as those of the Wraith causing him to destroy them before they could do the same to him.

Suddenly, he couldn't stay here in this room, in this city. He wanted to return to New Athos but he'd exiled himself to keep from hurting more of his people. The same with the others still on Atlantis. Now that his revenge had been exacted, he could leave.

He tossed his personal items and clothing into the black duffle bag recalling the address of a planet where he could go and just be alone until his life came to its natural end.

~~O~~

John, Evan, Woolsey and Carson watched the autopsy from the observation room above. Not that Carson was enjoying it, but he had wanted to see firsthand what had been done to the man he'd fought with. Lockhart was most certainly a despicable example of the human race, but he hadn't deserved to die for it, though someone else that apparently thought otherwise.

He watched Jennifer and Amanda strip off their gloves, gowns and masks as the surgical nurses wheeled Lockhart's body from the room. Looking up at him, Jennifer's expression was grave. She too left by the main door and moments later stood in front of the men awaiting her findings.

"It's as I suspected. The superior mesenteric artery was cut and he bled out." Her brown eyes flickered to each face and back to Carson's. "Either the person who did this got lucky or…"

Carson picked up the thought, "…or had intimate medical knowledge of human anatomy making _me_ th' most obvious suspect." Silence came over the room, broken by Carson clearing his throat. To the guards he said, "I'd like t' return t' the brig, please."

After he'd gone, Woolsey shifted his feet. "I am _not_ convinced that he's guilty."

"Yeah, well, you've got lots of company." John crossed his arms, Lorne beside him at parade rest. "Rodney should have the video and forensic analyses completed soon. Let's see where that takes us before…"

Running footsteps echoed in the hall moments before Rodney joined them just a little out of breath, excitement coming off of him in waves. "Carson didn't do it!"

"We _know_ that, Rodney."

"Yes, but now we have _proof._" He held up the tablet in his left hand. Tapping the screen, he sent the information to the large monitor. "Here are the fingerprints and DNA from the broken bottle. As you can see, both are unquestionably Carson's."

"Excuse me, Dr. McKay, but how does this help Dr. Beckett? You've just proven…"

"If you'd just _wait_ until I finish…" The screen changed to an image of the bottle, highlighted areas showing where fingerprints had been found. Arrows pointed to different aspects of the evidence. Producing a bottle similar to the one on the screen, Rodney demonstrated what they were seeing. "Carson's thumbprint was found here with the other four here. Now we all know that this is how one holds a bottle in order to drink from it."

The others got what he was saying, John continuing the line of reasoning. "And if you're gonna stab someone with a broken bottle…" he took it from Rodney, grabbing it by the neck, "…you hold it like this."

Evan took a step closer. "The placement of the fingerprints doesn't match."

"And there's something else. See how these areas are slightly smudged? The pattern indicates that someone wrapped a piece of cloth around the bottle and I think we're safe in assuming that it was done to keep from disturbing Carson's prints without leaving their own."

"What else?"

"Video. I had to enlarge it quite a bit so it's grainy, but we can still see most of the, uh, fight. What I want to draw your attention to is this area right here." He zoomed in on Carson and Lockhart fighting. Carson hit him with a powerful uppercut that knocked him out, the man went down on his back, arms and legs splayed. Dr. Theodule stepped into the picture and from there most of what happened was obscured. All they could see was bodies, male and female, fighting.

Rodney pointed to one area in the upper right corner where a man with blond hair was seen glancing around before bending down. A moment later, he stood up again, turned his back to the camera then disappeared out of the shot.

"It's not Carson! This man is blond and Carson has brown hair."

John played the Devil's Advocate just for the sake of argument. "Rodney, that guy could be checking if Lockhart is okay."

"But Carson's being framed!"

"We know! But all we see is this guy bending over Dr. Lockhart. Not killing him. What we need is proof that'll stand up in court."

"Yeah, well how's this for proof? Those fibers we found adhering to the label? They're _Athosian_!"

Jennifer touched Rodney on the arm pointing at the screen. "Do we know who that is?"

"Uh, yeah. There was only one blond Athosian in the bar that night."

Teyla and Ronon joined them at that moment. "John, I've come to tell you that one of my people, Mahesh is leaving Atlantis. He has not taken his leave which is quite unlike him. Since there are so few of us left, we take great care to let others know when we have made the decision to move to another world."

Evan and John didn't need to hear any more. They'd already left the area at a dead run, Teyla and Ronon behind them.

~~O~~

Dusty had been hiding in the shadows listening to Woolsey, John, Evan, Rodney and Jennifer going over the evidence that had proven Carson innocent of murdering Lockhart. When she heard the name Mahesh, she backed up, turned and ran for the transporter. As soon as the door opened she shot out and down the hall. Mahesh had a room two corridors over from hers. When she arrived, the door was standing open, the drawers all pulled out and empty. "Son of a _b****!_"

~~O~~

Having said his good-byes to the others, the ones who understood his need to be somewhere other than here, Mahesh shouldered his bag waiting for Amelia to dial the address for New Athos. From there he would immediately dial out again, and again and again, until his destination was so obscured that no one, not even McKay would be able to find him.

He hadn't taken his leave of Teyla and that troubled him some, but she would be suspicious of one of their people leaving so soon after the incident in the bar as would Sheppard and Woolsey.

The last symbol engaged as he gained the bottom step and headed for the wormhole. As he reached it, the 'gate shut down. Panic welled up inside him that he'd been caught. He should have known that it wouldn't be as easy to get away as it had seemed. Almost as if someone were playing games with him, letting him reach out and touch freedom with his fingertips only to have it taken away.

Around him, the guards came to attention, aiming their weapons at him. The one in charge stepped forward. "Drop the bag and put your hands in the air!"

Just for a moment Mahesh considered forcing their hands, letting them end his life _now_ instead of waiting for a natural death. It would only be fitting that he should go out this way. But suicide, no matter how it was accomplished, went against the teachings of the Ancestors, the ones the Earth humans called the Ancients. The soldiers were armed with stunners so the gesture would be futile. Above him, their faces uncompromising in their anger, the others watched him.

Tossing his bag away, he did as directed, holding his hands out away from his body and turning to face the man who'd spoken just as the echo of running footsteps reached him. One set was followed closely by several others and voices calling out a name he recognized.

A growl of rage slammed into him as he was tackled to the floor so hard he and his attacker rolled over and over coming to a stop at the base of a support pylon. He was dragged to his feet by a pair of strong arms belonging to a woman. They were of a height allowing him to look directly into the face of an enraged Dusty.

**TBC**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: **Once again, many, many thanks to ladygris for her help with this chapter.

Merci,

~Sandy

**Never Far Away**

**Chapter 12**

The rage on the woman's face might have terrified someone who hadn't endured the pain of hybridization and reversal of the same. His eyes met hers without flinching as she slammed him against the pylon then swung him around causing him to stumble though he kept to his feet, backing away in an effort to diminish the amount of damage that would be done to him.

She followed him, a dangerous glint in her eyes. His attention was diverted for a split second as others arrived on the scene. It wasn't much, but the woman took advantage of it, balancing on one foot and kicking him in the stomach.

That same foot came down as she spun around and hit him on the side of the head with the outer edge of her foot. She planted that foot and turned again in preparation for another kick. When her eyes were not on him for that split second, he swung his right arm across his body to strike her on the back making her stumble away from him. This allowed him to get his hands into position to defend himself.

Their hands and feet lashed out again and again, blocked by the other as they moved around the Gate Room. He could see they'd drawn a crowd but didn't dare a glance to see who watched though he knew Teyla had to be one of them. He could feel her censure in the air, but couldn't spare the smallest amount of his attention to look for her.

~~O~~

Watching Dusty and Mahesh beat the crap out of each other, John knew he had to put a stop to it soon. But not yet. The Staff Sergeant was only doing what John himself wanted to do though her motivation was much different.

Dusty lashed out with her right foot getting Mahesh on the shoulder. Mahesh called out in pain and John winced at the sickening crunch that meant she'd broken his collarbone. His nose had been bloodied and his left arm was held close to his side where she'd kicked him in the ribs with the steel toe of her boot. Hopefully she'd broken a rib or two.

As much as he was enjoying this, it was time to put a stop to it before she killed the man. He'd not even taken one step when he was halted by Teyla's strong grip on his arm.

"No, John. At this moment, she is not one of your soldiers. At this moment, she is Carson's mate and it is her right to avenge the betrayal."

"But she'll kill him!"

"You do not give Sergeant Mehra the credit she deserves, John. I cannot allow you to interfere."

The lift of one side of Teyla's mouth made John feel ashamed that he'd thought Dusty incapable of controlling her temper. But he did as she instructed and watched the man who'd framed Carson get what was coming to him.

John was jolted out of his visions of his own revenge when the fighting abruptly stopped. Dusty had Mahesh in a sleeper hold with what had to be her own revision. The way her hands were positioned, she could easily choke the life from the man without much effort. Her expression had been fierce, primitive. Now it was calm. Too calm. He took an involuntary step forward to intervene, drawing up short at Dusty's snarled, "Stay back, sir."

~~O~~

Mahesh had stopped struggling seeming to have accepted that his life was about to end as Dusty slowly and inexorably exerted pressure on his windpipe until he could barely draw in a breath. Her voice so low that only he could hear, she squeezed just a little more. "This is _me_ killing you for what you tried to do to Carson." He struggled, his survival instincts making him claw at the arm across his throat.

"This is Carson stopping me." She released him so suddenly that he fell to his hands and knees, drawing in rasping breaths through his bruised throat. Using her foot to push him over onto his side, she watched him lay there staring up her with surprise and shock. Turning her back on Mahesh as if he meant less than nothing Dusty went to stand in front of John, hands clasped behind her back, head up and back straight. "Sorry, sir."

"Don't be." John slanted his eyes to Teyla and back. "It was your right."

"Permission to release Dr. Beckett from the Brig, sir?"

"Granted, Staff Sergeant."

"Thank you, sir." She strode from the scene without a backward glance.

~~O~~

Mahesh cried out in pain when Ronon grabbed a handful of his shirt and lifted him to his feet, has hands going to support his broken collarbone and cracked ribs. Every few seconds Ronon urged him to move faster by giving him a shove. The Satedan started to take him straight to the Brig only to be stopped by John.

"This way, Chewy. First stop is the Infirmary."

"Doesn't deserve it." The big man shrugged at the look he got from his friend and changed direction.

"No argument from me, but Teyla might have something to say about it." John glanced over his shoulder at the Athosian leader who was strangely silent.

"Beckett too." John couldn't argue with Ronon's retort.

On the walk to the Infirmary, Mahesh hadn't said one word in his defense. Not that it would have helped. He'd killed a man and blamed another. Nothing could change that.

They neared the Infirmary, Ronon once again giving Mahesh a shove that caused him to stumble to his knees, one hand on the floor in front of him. He cried out in pain when Ronon grabbed his arm and hauled him to his feet again. "Get up!"

Just then John, Ronon and the guards turned at the sound of an angry voice.

"What the bloody _hell_ are ye doin'?"

~~O~~

Carson glared at the men, going to Mahesh's side to lead him to an exam table. To Mahesh he said, "Sit there, lad and we'll have ye fixed up." He turned to the male nurse. "Get him inta a gown n' under the scanner." The guards stepped forward at John's nod as Dusty stopped next to him. "What happened?"

"_I_ happened."

He turned to study her face at the matter-of-fact tone in her voice. She stared back, her eyes going to the small cuts and bruises on his face that were already beginning to heal, waiting for him to make some remark. "Why…"

Teyla pushed to the front of the crowd watching Carson tend to the man on the bed, the man whose actions caused the doctor to spend the night in the brig. "It was Sergeant Mehra's entitlement as your mate to exact payment for what was done to you."

"Excuse me?"

"She means I got to beat the crap outta him for framing you for murder."

Her tone was still expressionless as if she had no feelings about the damage she'd done to Mahesh one way or the other though he knew otherwise, could see it in her eyes. She hadn't enjoyed it, but she also wasn't remorseful.

Carson moved to the scanner's display, his back to the others and sarcasm in his voice. "Oh? Why didn't ye _say_ so?" Inside he was thinking _She 'n I will need t' discuss this, but not now!_ That is until he realized what Teyla had just said. He spun around, his eyes wide and a light blush creeping over his features. "Mate?"

John, Ronon and Teyla chuckled and the guards just grinned at the comically shocked look on Carson's face. The doctor looked back at Dusty who blew another bubble and shrugged in a way that meant she was okay with that evaluation of their relationship.

Trying not to grin herself, Amanda came to his side. "You better let me take over, Carson. I think you and the Sergeant need to have a talk."

"Aye. We do."

~~O~~

With just a touch of unease, Dusty meekly followed Carson to one of the empty exam beds.

"What were ye thinkin' gettin' into a fight with…" he pointed his chin at Mahesh as he ran the handheld scanner over her back, "…him?"

"I was gettin' back at him for…" she cut off remembering what Gunny had told her just hours before, "…wait a minute! _You _started a _bar fight!_ What were _you_ thinkin'?"

With a snort of frustration Carson set aside the scanner he'd been using, crossing his arms and matching her glare with one of his own. "I was defendin' yer honor. Lockhart said…"

"I'm a _Marine!_ I don't _need_ anyone to defend my honor." She hopped off the exam table and pushed past him.

"I _know_ that but…where are ye goin'? We're not done…"

Dusty returned to stand toe to toe with him. "Well _I'm_ done! How I could possibly…"

"Hey!" All conversation came to a stunned halt at the sound of Jennifer's voice. Rodney followed her out and Dusty could see the physicist didn't know what to make of the argument taking place in the middle of the Infirmary and in front of so many people. "You two! Take that in my office!"

"But, Jenn…"

"I mean _now_, Carson."

Dusty exchanged a sheepish glance with Carson then led the way into the glass walled office. For the first few minutes they just stood there, Dusty with her arms crossed, staring at the floor, and Carson rubbing his forehead as if a headache were coming on.

~~O~~

The guards kept a watchful eye on Mahesh though John was certain he wouldn't cause any more problems. Not that he was physically able to do so at the moment, but just in case. Instead, he and Teyla stood next to Rodney and Jennifer watching the couple yell at each other.

"What do you think they're saying?"

Jennifer shrugged. "As long as they're engaging in a frank and open discussion of their issues, does it matter?"

John shrugged. "Guess not." Inside the office, Carson and Dusty abruptly stopped talking. They stood there looking into each other's eyes, their chest heaving from the adrenaline pumping into their systems from the heightened emotions. "What the…Whoa! I did _not_ need to see that!" Turning to face the other way, he tried to wipe away the memory of what he'd just seen but it was futile. "Oh, crap! How'm I gonna get to sleep tonight without seeing _that_ every time I close my eyes?"

~~O~~

Aside from the soft susurrations of the environmental systems, a tense silence surrounded Carson and Dusty. Finally, she spoke. "You never said why you started a bar fight."

"'N ye never said _why_ ye beat the livin' daylights out o' that young man." Looking everywhere but at him, Dusty mumbled something he couldn't hear. "What's that?"

A long huff, part annoyance and part resignation, hissed out of her throat. "Because…I…"

"Ye _what?_"

"Love you."

Carson had been tense, his body rigid, but at Dusty's confession, he sagged in relief. "That's good because I love ye too."

Her head came up, their eyes meeting for the first time since they'd come into the office. The darkness of her irises sparkled with happiness though she wasn't smiling. When had he come to know her so well that he could tell her mood even when she didn't change her expression? He didn't know, but he was more than willing to spend a lifetime figuring it out.

"Really?"

A smile came to his face as he took a step closer, his hands lightly gripping her arms, rubbing up and down. "Aye."

One side of her mouth lifted. "So why are we fighting?"

"No idea."

Her hands rested on his arms above the elbows giving him a squeeze just before drawing him into a passionate kiss. A kiss he returned with equal fervor. Dropping his hands to her backside, he lifted her onto the desk, her legs encircling his thighs and pulling him close.

It occurred to them at the same time that they were still in a public place. They pulled apart, Carson took Dusty's hand and led her from the office. To leave they would have to pass Mahesh's bed. As they drew near Ronon crossed his arms and thrust a hip to the side not taking his eyes off of the Athosian.

~~O~~

"Two guards on him at all times, even in the Brig." John turned to leave knowing without hearing the words that his orders would be carried out. He hadn't gone but a few steps when the prisoner called out to him.

"Colonel Sheppard, you see what the woman has done to me. Should she not be imprisoned as well?"

John exchanged meaningful looks with all who had been present for Dusty's butt-whooping seeing understanding in their eyes. "I didn't see anything. Anyone else see anything?" A chorus of negatives answered his query.

Ronon went to Mahesh's bedside. "You got beat up in a bar fight…" the Satedan punched him in the face just hard enough to get a little blood on his knuckles, "…by _me_."

Nodding, John said, "That's how_ I_ remember it."

Rodney slipped an arm around Jennifer's shoulders. "Me too."

The only member of the group not involved in the banter was Teyla. She did not smile. "As one of the leaders of Atlantis, John, you should know the punishment that will be proclaimed against Mahesh."

Not knowing what she had in mind, John crossed his arms and waited.

Mahesh lay in the hospital bed, his ribs wrapped to support them while they healed and a sling on his left arm to prevent movement of the broken collarbone. Various cuts and bruises showed on his face and several stitches were covered by a bandage on his cheek. Despite all that, he stared boldly at Teyla, ready to accept his fate.

The sound of metal rasping against leather brought the soldiers instantly alert, bringing their weapons up in preparation for use. Holding the knife by the handle, Teyla swung it high intent on ending the life of Mahesh.

"STOP!" Carson insinuated himself between Teyla and the injured man who was unable to defend himself against her attack. "What the bloody _hell_ are ye doin'?"

"It is our way. When one has committed the crime of taking the life of another in this manner, that person's life is also forfeit. Mahesh will die in the same fashion as Lockhart, left to slowly bleed to death, alone, without friends or family to comfort him in his last hours."

"Sorry, I cannae let ye do it."

"You must!"

She attempted to push Carson aside, but he refused to move. "No, I mustn't! It was th' work _I_ did that changed th' lad in th' first place. If I hadnae cooperated with that monster…"

Rodney stepped forward, fear and anger warring in his eyes. "You had no choice, Carson! If you hadn't helped him, he would have killed even more people."

"Aye. But that doesnae change th' fact that I'm still responsible. If he is judged to be guilty, then I should be too. Are ye goin' t' kill me as well?" The misery in his eyes stopped Teyla, the hand holding the knife slowing dropping to her side. Carson turned to Mahesh, the Athosian having watched and listened to the conversation without commenting or giving his opinion one way or the other, accepting that his fate had already been decided the night he'd killed Lockhart. "I have already forgiven him for his actions. Are there no provisions for leniency in extenuatin' circumstances?"

"There are not. But as this is a situation that the Ancestors could not have foreseen, perhaps it is time to create _new_ laws and traditions." She sheathed her knife. Arms raised to the side palms up, head tilted back, she closed her eyes, saying a silent prayer. Her eyes opened again focusing solely on Mahesh. Her hand produced another much smaller knife. This time no one stopped her as she leaned over Mahesh and quickly carved a symbol into the center of his forehead. "Let it be known to all! For the rest of his days, he will wear the mark of the betrayer, Olin.

"Mahesh, you are hereby stripped of your heritage never again to set foot upon New Athos." A collective gasp went through the spectators though no one commented. "As of this moment, you are no longer Athosian. You are and shall remain a man without a homeworld, without friends, without anyone to turn to for comfort in times of distress." Turning her back on him, Teyla's eyes met John's as she replaced the knife in its place of concealment. "Do with him as you will, Colonel Sheppard. He is no longer a concern of the Athosian people."

John turned his gaze on the former Athosian though he spoke to the guards. "When he's released, take him to the Brig. We'll deal with him later."

~~O~~

"Why'd you help him after what he did?" Carson could see that Ronon was upset at the turn of events. It was Carson's nature and it hadn't surprised him that he'd done it, but he didn't like it.

With a glance at the man on the bed listening to every word, Carson gave Mahesh a smile that had little to do with kindness though he was speaking to Ronon. "Because killing someone for doin' ye wrong is easy, but _forgiveness_ is th' ultimate revenge. Now if ye don't mind, I'll be takin' my girl 'n goin' now."

The couple got as far as the exit before John spoke. "Sarge?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Dr. Beckett is confined to quarters. Mind escorting him and making sure he stays put?"

Carson blushed again, a shy embarrassed smile coming over his features. Dusty blew a bubble and let it pop trying in vain to hide a smirk. "Not at all, sir."

~~O~~

As Dusty and Carson made their way to his room, she reflected that finding him and the things they shared, how they managed to heal each other, was like finding a diamond while hiking a trail you'd been on hundreds of times before. It was always there, but it took just the right circumstances to see it. Not normally given to fanciful notions, she snorted at herself.

"What is it, love?" He passed a hand over the sensor, led her inside his room pulling her into a loose embrace as the door closed.

She sighed at the loving tone in his voice realizing he'd been telling her of his love for a while though she hadn't been listening as closely as she should have been. He called most women love, but now it was so much more than just a generic term of affection. Now she knew it was _meant_. He loved her. "I was just thinkin' about that song the blond actress used to sing, the one about diamonds."

Carson chuckled. "'Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend'?"

"Yeah. Reminds me of you."

"How so, love?"

"You're like a diamond though you aren't just some old rock."

"What're ye sayin'?"

"That diamonds may be a girl's best friend, but you're better than all that." He pulled her close and she let herself lean into him, her head on his shoulder. "Carson, why…" With little experience to guide her, Dusty didn't know how to phrase what she wanted to say.

"Ye want t' know why I've fallen in love with ye." Without lifting her head, she nodded. "My love, there's something in you that speaks to a part of me I'd thought Michael had destroyed. When I found you, I found myself again."

Puzzling that over in her mind, she smiled slow and sexy. "Ditto." He lowered his head as she leaned into him, their lips meeting in a hot and passionate kiss.

A short time later, they had stripped each other of their outer clothing, standing in the middle of the room. He had on a T-shirt and boxers and she a khaki green tank top and a pair of boxers with the Marine logo. He didn't make a move, simply took her hands and just looked at her, his eyes automatically seeking out that bit of sparkle in her belly button.

"What're you starin' at me for? You've seen me undressed before."

"Aye, but I wasnae permitted th' time t' just look at you." When his eyes met hers again, he was grinning. "I was just thinkin' about the way ye looked in yer dress uniform. All professional and serious. And far too sexy fer my peace o' mind. It's the only time I've ever seen you in a skirt."

~~O~~

Dusty rolled her eyes at him. "Don't like skirts." She thought over what he'd said about how she'd looked on the day of Reed's service. "You're not gonna, you know, go all weird on me are ya?"

"Och. No!" He let his hands rest on her waist, slipping around to her spine to pull her closer. "I want ye t' be yerself."

Her grin was almost evil as she reached up to kiss him again. Their lips had barely made contact when she leaned back. "Wait!" Pulling free of his embrace, she went to his dresser, opening and closing drawers until she found the one she wanted.

"What's that yer doin'?"

She faced him again with a sock in one hand, and the most evil smirk he'd ever seen on a woman. One eyebrow lifted as she headed for the door. He stopped her by taking her hand and leading her to the bed. Sitting on the side, he pulled her onto his lap, both arms around her waist. "Yer a cheeky bugger."

"Damn straight!"

They kissed again, his hand taking the sock from her and tossing it away. She broke the contact and stood, turning so her hands were on his shoulders. Placing a knee on each side of his hips, she exerted just enough pressure to make him lie down and she followed, pressing her lips to his again. With her straddled over him, he kept hold of her waist as she sat back, her firm backside resting on the tops of his thighs. As she had at the lake, she crossed her arms to grasp the hem of her top, lifting it up and off.

When her eyes met his again, he knew he was ogling her but couldn't stop. "Och…you're…"

"What?"

He was at a loss for words. The sight of her naked from the waist up had robbed him of the ability to speak earning him a huff of annoyance from the woman he loved. It broke through the haze of desire though it did nothing to dissipate it. "…absolutely lovely."

"Thanks." She said it without sarcasm or rancor. "Your turn. Take it off, Beckett."

When he didn't immediately follow her instructions, she grasped the bottom of his shirt and slipped her hands inside, blazing a trail of heat across his chest and stomach until those sweet strong fingers eased beneath the elastic of his boxers. He stopped her foraging by taking her hands from his skin then hugging her close, loving the feel of her pressed against him. Rolling until she was under him, he gazed into her beautiful face. "Sorry, love, but this time we're takin' our time and gettin' t' know each other."

Not waiting for her agreement, Carson removed his T-shirt and together they spent the night proving their love.

**TBC**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:** As always, many thanks go out to ladygris for the Beta and encouragement to write this particular story. I know it's not an obvious ship but it was another of those plot bunnies that wouldn't leave until I wrote it.

For those of you who enjoyed Turning the Page and All Roads Lead Home, #3 in the series will be coming up soon. This one is taking a bit longer to get going due to it has a more serious plotline.

Namaste,

~Sandy

**Never Far Away**

**Chapter 13**

**The Next Day**

Rodney was already seated at their usual table when Jennifer arrived balancing her lunch tray and a tablet. The physicist jumped up to give her a hand then resumed his seat. She drizzled a spoonful of honey into her oatmeal, added a dollop of butter and stirred. Checking the time, she sighed. "Where's Carson? He was supposed to meet me here to go over patient files."

Not really paying attention to anything but her, Rodney shrugged. "Don't know."

"It's really odd. He's not usually late." She tapped her headset. "Keller to Beckett. Dr. Beckett please respond." There was no answer to her summons. She pushed away from the table and stood.

"Where you going?"

"To look for him."

Standing, Rodney quickly finished off his coffee. "I'll go find him. Eat and take a break."

He really was sweet to her. Jennifer smiled, giving his hand a squeeze. "Thanks."

~~O~~

Snapping his fingers, Rodney turned the corner and came to a stop in front of Carson's door. He touched the sensor and waited impatiently for the door to open. Checking the time, he requested entry twice more. Just when he was about to knock, the door opened and there stood Carson wearing a robe and a perturbed expression. Behind him, only one small light was lit, most of the room in darkness.

The medical doctor crossed his arms with annoyance. "What do ye _want_, Rodney?"

"I was just…you were supposed to meet Jennifer in the Mess Hall to…"

"We'll have t' reschedule. Now if ye don't mind…"

"What's going on, Carson? You're acting very…" A sound came out of the shadows, the creaking of the bed, and a moment later a sleep-tousled Dusty wrapped in a sheet, her arms and shoulders bare and one hand holding the front together, came into the small pool of light from the hallway. With a grin, she cuddled up to Carson, his arm snaking around her waist to hold her close making Rodney's eyes bug out. "What the…?"

"Break's over, Carson. Come back to bed."

"Of course, love." He gave Rodney a smirk and touched the sensor closing the door in the physicist's face. The last thing Rodney saw was Carson and Dusty engaged in a passionate kiss as the sheet dropped to the floor.

His brain refusing to process what he'd just seen, Rodney walked back to the Mess hall, dropping heavily into the seat across from Jennifer.

~~O~~

Jennifer had watched Rodney weave his way between the tables until he sat down across from her, his eyes wide and unfocused. "Is everything okay, Rodney? Did you find Carson?"

"What? Oh, uh, yeah. Yeah, I did."

He was distracted and disturbed in a way that concerned her. "Rodney! Where is _Carson?_"

Pointing over his shoulder, Rodney indicated the direction from which he'd just come. "He's, uh…he's taking my advice."

"About…? Rodney!"

He finally focused on her face. "He's, uh…"

"He's _what?_"

Heaving a sigh, Rodney blurted out, "He's getting laid!"

In the middle of taking a sip of water, Jennifer did a spit-take, soaking the front of Rodney's shirt. Conversation at the closest tables came to a stunned halt. Jennifer cleared her throat trying to recover from the fact that her fiancé had just announced for all to hear that Carson was, at this moment…oh she couldn't even think it! She reached across and grabbed Rodney's hand. "How could you just announce such a thing to_ everyone?_"

"Do you have _any_ idea how_ I_ feel? I had to see it _first-hand!_"

"Okay. Fine. You had it worse than any of us. Just…please don't mention it again…ever!"

"No problem!"

~~O~~

Dusty awoke cradled in the shelter of Carson's embrace. She was on her back, his arm lay across her stomach, a tickle on the side of her neck kept time with the steady rhythm of his breathing. As much as she wanted to stay in this position for the rest of the day, she had to get to her duty shift soon.

Not wanting to wake him, she carefully eased out from under his arm and quietly padded into the bathroom picking up her clothes as she went. Her morning routine seen to, she went to the door, her boots in hand pausing before touching the sensor.

_I should leave him a note._

Looking around, she didn't see a pad or pen so she booted up his tablet, took the stylus and wrote a quick note. Propping the tablet up where he'd see it, she left him alone and returned to her room thinking about the events of the previous day…and that morning.

Yes, she did love him and enjoyed the fact that everyone now knew they were a couple. She didn't, however, have any idea what the future held for them together. He continued to express the desire to be "out there" fighting the modified Hoffan drug that he'd helped develop. And she would support him in whatever decision he made. What she wasn't sure of was how this long distance relationship would work and she needed to know, to have reassurances that nothing would change their feelings for each other.

With a snort of frustration, at herself more than anything, she changed into her workout clothes and went to meet her team. On the way to the gym, the thoughts that had been swirling through her head finally came together in a coherent fashion. Sort of.

Carson's words of love were _meant_. Of that she had no doubt. He would never be far away even if he wasn't physically there. And she'd do the same. As long as they both lived, he would love her and support her no matter what she did. And today she decided that she wasn't yet ready to make this permanent meaning she didn't want to get married. At least not yet, and she hoped he would understand.

Life was short. Shorter for some than for others, but Dusty still couldn't make that final leap of faith. Maybe someday she would, but not yet. One thing she _did_ know. When she was ready, Carson would be the one she'd "leap" with. If something happened and they could no longer be together, she would spend the rest of her life alone aside from the occasional friend-with-benefits relationship, but it would take a long time to get to that point.

Content with that evaluation, she entered the gym ready to wipe the floor with whoever was unlucky enough to cross her path today. She grinned internally. Purely for the exercise of course.

Today, the Major had scheduled their workout to coincide with Team Lorne's and she found herself facing off one of Reed's teammates, Paul Coughlin. An expert in several forms of martial arts, he always honored her with a bow though he knew better than to take his eyes off of her.

Dusty blew a bubble, sucked it back in then sprang into action.

~~O~~

Blinking in the afternoon light streaming in through the window, Carson yawned, rubbed his eyes and rolled over, automatically reaching for Dusty and finding her side of the bed empty. He got out of bed and stood looking around seeing that her clothes were gone from where they'd been strewn over the floor.

_She left and didn't say good-bye?_

He was more than a little bothered by the fact, until he saw his tablet propped up on the desk. A small glowing light indicted that it was in power saver mode though he knew for a fact that he'd not turned it on the night before. He carried it back to the bed and sat on the side as he powered it up. His annoyance turned to delight when he read her note with the added "I'm never far away. Love, D" at the end. Carson grinned in remembrance of when he'd said the same thing to her in the cave after Reed had died.

His stomach grumbled reminding him that he hadn't eaten in nearly a day. Setting the computer aside, Carson gathered up his clothes from the floor, tossed them in the laundry basket and went to take a shower. While in there, he did something he hadn't done in a very long time, he sang the last verse of a long song because it reminded him of Dusty. He was way off key, but didn't care.

_Bha mise làn aoibhneis nuair fhuair mi cheud phòg,  
>Bho'n chaileig ghrinn uasail tha aighearach òg.<br>'S e mo mhiann is mo dhùrachd, cho fad 's bhios mi beò,  
>A bhi pòsd' ris a' ghruagaich tha suairc agus còir.<em>

After dressing and combing his hair, he let his stomach lead him to the Mess Hall. As he walked to Rodney's table, he noticed he was being watched and the watchers were whispering, some of them giving him sly looks or avoiding catching his eye altogether.

Making himself comfortable, well as comfortable as he could what with being stared at, he picked up his fork and stabbed the lettuce leaves in irritation. "What is so fascinatin' about a man eatin' lunch?"

A light dusting of pink colored Rodney's cheeks as he looked down at his plate. "I, uh, have no idea."

The physicist cleared his throat nervously instantly alerting Carson who hit him with a glare. "Rodney?" Again Rodney kept his eyes on his tray without responding. "Och! Ye didn't!"

"I'm sorry! I didn't _mean_ to. It just…slipped out."

"Slipped out? How c'n somethin' like that just 'slip out'?"

"It was sort of Jennifer's fault."

"And how, pray tell, is it the lass's fault that ye have a big mouth?"

"Hi, guys!" Jennifer joined then at that moment, curtailing their conversation. "Whatcha talking about?"

"Nothin' important, love." Carson gave his best friend a smile that wasn't a smile. "Ye know, I'm surprised yer able to eat with yer _foot_ in yer mouth, Rodney."

~~O~~

Carson was waiting for Dusty when she knocked on his door that evening. After a long and very passionate kiss, he set her away from him just far enough to see her face. "Missed ya."

"I can tell." She wiggled against him making him growl.

"By the way, love, ye don't ever have t' be afraid to wake me before ye go. I might growl, but I won't bite."

Dusty's hand pulled the neck of her T-shirt away from her right shoulder where a hicky the size of a quarter stood out on her dark skin. She grinned cheekily, one eyebrow raised. "Oh, _really?_"

The doctor shrugged sheepishly then drew her close again. "What say we create a matchin' one on th' other side?"

"Not a chance. Now it's _your_ turn." And before long, they were rolling around on the bed kissing. Carson laughed when Dusty squealed in delight as his skilled surgeon's hands went to work.

**Two Years Later**

**Atlantis Rec Room**

Standing with Rodney and Evan, John clapped along with the wedding attendees as Carson and Dusty kissed after being pronounced husband and wife. They were very happy for their friend and his bride though it had taken almost two years for the doctor to convince the Marine to marry him.

John knew Carson had been frustrated with Dusty's continual negative responses to his requests for her hand in marriage. So much so that he'd been stunned when she'd finally said yes.

The Scot was naturally rigged out in full kilt with all the accoutrements while Dusty wore a cream-colored pantsuit and carried a bouquet. It was a compromise they'd worked out.

Evan leaned close, his voice low. "Sir, is it just me, or is there something wrong with this picture?" He nodded at the bride and groom now holding hands and making their way to the back of the rec room turned into a chapel.

"It's not just you." Together, John and Evan watched Carson and Dusty shake hands and accept hugs on their way to the end of the aisle. "This is the first wedding I've ever been to where the _bride_ wore pants and the _groom_ wore a skirt."

~~O~~

The reception was in full swing, Carson and Dusty standing close together looking happy and very much in love. He took her hand and kissed the backs of her fingers. She hadn't allowed it in the beginning, but eventually learned to accept it as a quirk of his and didn't say anything. "Love, there's somethin' we didn't discuss before th' weddin'."

"Yeah? What's that?"

He leaned close to whisper in her ear. "How d'ya feel about children?"

**End**

_Cailin mo rùin-sa_ (Dearest My Own One) by Donald Ross

Verse 3:

Do you remember that moment of bliss,  
>So fondly embracing, the thrill of that kiss?<br>Since then you are mine, dear, the choice of my heart;  
>My promise I'll give you, that we'll never part.<p> 


End file.
